Lovegame
by pandasplease
Summary: Kankuro wanders the city streets, angry. Kiba stays locked up in the darkness, hurt. But when struggles bring the two together, on the same mission, they're forced to face their past. As a new enemy emerges, will they have the strength to survive?
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: First, the idea to write this story has been with me for probably three years, but I've been waiting until I found the right way to write it. I think I'm finally there. When writing, each chapter started with a short poem, from each character's perspective, which was dispersed throughout the chapter. (You'll see what I mean.) So, when you're done with each chapter, feel free to go back and put together all of the italicized lines to read the poem for each chapter. Anyway I feel like I've talked enough. So, lastly I DO NOT OWN NARUTO, THE CHARACTERS, OR THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE. And now, enjoy(: !and comment puh-leeeease!

_There are words burning on my lips, venom pulsing in my veins._

Kankuro clenched his fists, hard, until the strain caused his knuckles to crack, his joints sighed. He released and felt the dull pulse of pain flood his hands.

He had never been broken like this before. He was a sand ninja, damn it. He had been bruised, beaten, scratched and slashed. He had reached out and touched death, felt it's cold embrace, but managed to pull himself back. But never had he been broken like this. And it was _his_ entire fault.

The boy he couldn't get off his mind if he tried. And he was certainly trying, maybe not in the best way, though. Which is why he was here, in this claustrophobic alley, trying to forget. Red light glinted off of every sharp, cheap building, catching on the sweaty faces of the others here, also trying to forget.

_I've got desire in my eyes. I cross the street like I know what I'm doing, but surely I don't._

Every part of him felt disgusting. His legs felt heavy, his body numb from the alcohol. His stale sweat stuck to his back, his forehead. His face was a smear of burgundy, the paint smudged out of its neat lines. He was a wreck. He didn't want to remember the last three days, but he couldn't keep the memories from swirling around in his head.

Of course, the real pain had been under the surface this whole time, deeply rooted long before the events of three days ago. The real pain had started as summer and warmth, and something Kankuro rarely allowed himself: happiness.

The mission he was assigned back then was a simple one: travel to Konoha, alone, and act as an ambassador of sorts. Gaara needed a message delivered to the Fifth Hokage, and was too wrapped up in other conflicts to deliver it himself. Kankuro knew it was basically an extension of the peace between Leaf and Sand, as well as what was meant to be an offer of cooperation between shinobi from both villages.

Minor crises were erupting between many smaller bordering villages. Civil wars between dying clans of stubborn ninja had proven overwhelming and exhausting for both Suna and Konoha to keep on top of. The message was a proposal to create teams of Sand and Leaf ninja in an attempt to boost the power as well as the number of squads that were able to attend to the annoying situations.

Kankuro never would have volunteered for a mission like that. In truth, he felt nothing for the cause. Let them handle their own problems and we'll take care of ours. But he could never speak against Gaara like that. And with Temari out actually trying to resolve some of the conflicts, Kankuro was the only sibling left and Gaara insisted he be the one to deliver it.

Honestly, Kankuro had never really spent much time in Konoha since the Chunin Exams. And although he didn't particularly care for the village, he admitted that what happened then had gone much too far. So maybe, in a small way, he owed them this letter at least.

Tsunade, who agreed wholeheartedly with the effort suggested, had received his message. She sent a reply asking to arrange a meeting to discuss further action, and Kankuro went on his way.

It was as he was leaving that Kankuro saw him. He hadn't seen the boy since the last time he was here, and hadn't taken much notice of him then. But now, he had grown up, and Kankuro was taking notice.

He had filled out in the time since he saw him last, his muscles thick, his shoulders broad. His hood was finally gone, letting Kankuro see his jaw, strong and angular. He was walking with Akamaru, who had also grown to monstrous proportions and now reached about three feet at the shoulder.

Kiba met Kankuro's gaze as he passed and something stirred in him, something that would keep him coming back to Konoha for a long time.

But the Kankuro now walking that dark alley wasn't the same as back then. He treaded bitterly, angrily, searching for something to fill that empty blackness that had grown inside of him. Or at least something to hide it for a while, help him forget.

And he saw a girl who didn't quite belong, leaning against a wall, hiking up her skirt. She glanced at passerby from under downcast lashes. But Kankuro could tell she was uncomfortable. She had a kindness in her eye. It reminded him of Kiba.

_My heart stutters with the thick heat of the air and I grab her wrist._

"C'mon" he said coldly. He couldn't look back t her, just pull her deeper into the darkness, and she pressed herself against him without asking. He closed his eyes as they kissed, the red neon still etched behind his eyelids. But even the shocking lights couldn't block out Kiba's face, his fanged smile.

Kankuro grabbed her tightly, kissing her deeper, and she didn't object. They both knew this wasn't love, or even attraction. It was bitter anger. It was lust.

_Tonight I play with fire._


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: So I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter, and I suppose I'll give you the second without hesitation! Please Review!!

_Scared doesn't begin to cover it; sorry can't ever explain it._

Akamaru sniffed tentatively at the boy curled on the floor, unsure whether Kiba was awake or asleep. Kiba wasn't really sure either. The past three days had been ruthless, nothing like he'd expected. He had shut down, and hadn't done much of anything since.

Things had been so good, so easy before. They were friends, but somehow, love changes everything. Through all of his doubts, he was now sure what this was: love. How else could someone waste away so thoroughly, so completely, merely because someone's presence was missing in their life?

Akamaru's nose pressed against Kiba's cheek and he rolled over, trying to ignore it, trying to ignore everything. But Akamaru had sat inside, watching Kiba like this for the past three days. Enough was enough. He began to whine and paw at the ninja.

Kiba grumbled, but slowly got to his feet. Maybe a walk wouldn't be so bad. He could probably use it.

Akamaru was already waiting at the door, but Kiba had a few things in mind before he faced the world. Walking past the mirror that hung in the bathroom, he realized how awful he looked. He didn't even want to think about how bad he smelled.

He striped off his clothes and looked in the mirror again. Apart from being slightly pale, his body looked good: toned muscles, broad shoulders; still a little thin, but he had filled out over the years and wasn't nearly as lanky as he used to be. But, every lie he ever told, every skeleton in his closet played out on his face: his eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks stained with tears. He didn't know how he could still cry. There were large purple bruises under each eye, making them look sunken, haunted. His hair was matted and tangled. He looked like Hell.

_I tremble, unsure of who I am, not ready to face what is left of life._

Stepping into the spray of the shower, Kiba gritted his teeth. The water was like ice, pelting him, blasting away the dirt on his skin. He wished the water could reach deeper, wished it could wash away what was under his skin, what was left of him. He rubbed himself down with soap and rinsed off, but he still felt awful, filthy. He kept scrubbing, his fingernails grating on his skin. Eventually he gave up, knowing he wouldn't be able to wash away the memories, or the guilt.

He stepped out of the shower shivering, his skin stinging in places where it had been scratched. He rubbed a thin towel over himself and winced. Idiot. He knew by doing what he had done he couldn't fix things. He didn't even know if they could be fixed. The worst part was, he was the one to mess things up.

He walked to his room and pulled on some clothes. He didn't bother with face paint, or with brushing his hair. Just pulled up his hood and walked out the door, Akamaru trailing alongside him. They walked own the two flights of stairs it took to make it out of his apartment complex and out into the afternoon sun.

He kept his head low, afraid of what they might see. Akamaru padded along quietly, almost as solemn as Kiba. They took an aimless path past Ichiraku Ramen (thankfully Naruto was away on a mission right now. Kiba couldn't handle his energy), past the mountain of Hokage, past the flower shop. They ended up in the park.

It was a quiet afternoon, and many leaf shinobi had been dispatched in squads of sand and leaf to quell the neighboring uprisings. A treaty had been formed a while ago, allowing these villages to work together to alleviate the strain it was putting on the villages individually. Kiba didn't know much more than that, only that Kankuro had been keeping the correspondence between Suna and Konoha in the early stages.

Kiba, luckily, hadn't been dispatched though, because he had been holed up in his apartment the last three days. As far as anyone knew, he was sick- too sick to be sent out of the village. Another reason why he didn't want to be seen: the last thing he could handle right now was a mission.

He sat down on a warm bench in the sun, and Akamaru rolled over at his feet. He looked content to just lay in the grass, content to be outside finally. Kiba was jealous. Dogs couldn't question whom they loved. Their owner was everything, and they would die trying to protect them. The smallest thing done on Kiba's part meant the world to Akamaru. But he hadn't been such a great owner lately. He hadn't felt great in a while. The only time he had been truly happy was with Kankuro, and he really fucked that up. He wasn't even rightly sure how things had gone so wrong.

_I let you in for a time, you let me see who I could be._

Seeing Kankuro for the first time since the Chunin exams had been somewhat of a shock for Kiba. Of course he remembered him. But seeing him in a new light, off the battlefield and with his guard down, Kiba sensed his vulnerability. It intrigued him. He caught his eye as they passed each other on the street and Kiba didn't think much of it until Akamaru paused and turned around. Kiba looked back at the puppet ninja to see that he was also turned around, eying up Kiba.

Normally, he would have felt threatened, but he saw the look in Kankuro's eyes. It was something like mischief, which he wore well. Kankuro gave a glint of a smile and sped off out of the village, leaving Kiba blushing and dumbfounded.

The time that passed after that first encounter was marked by the occasions on which he saw Kankuro in the village, keeping correspondence between Gaara and Tsunade. His fascination with the sand ninja grew. What had he meant with that smile? And why couldn't Kiba just talk to him?

One day though, Kankuro took notice of the routine the dog ninja kept, making sure to brush past him whenever there was a message to deliver.

"Hey!" Kankuro called.

He tried his hardest to keep his composure next to Akamaru and looked up. He prayed Kankuro couldn't see the anxiety he had, the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

"You walk by with that dog of yours every time I've got business here. When are you actually gonna say something to me?"

Kiba took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. They were honest, dark, and the hint of mischief he spied before hadn't left. Kiba returned it with a fanged grin and replied, "I suppose now would be a pretty good time."

He couldn't remember exactly what he had said after that, only that he had convinced Kankuro to walk with him for a time.

The walks soon became a routine thing. They'd talk about life in different villages, life in general. Kiba kept it to himself, but started to realize that Kankuro had begun to visit without bearing new messages. How could he be so special? How could anyone feel he was worth their time?

He remembered how one day they walked through the park and he reached over to grab Kankuro's hand, just to hold it. He could've pulled away, could've ran, could've spat "faggot" at him and left for good, but he didn't. He kept cool, he always kept cool, and flashed his mischievous grin as he turned to Kiba and said, "Finally."

Kiba sat in the sun watching Akamaru nap peacefully and wondered where his own peace had gone. The sun now felt too hot, too close to his memories, and he got up.

"C'mon boy." He called quickly to Akamaru, and he started walking back home to sit in the shadows.

_But life is safer behind the mask._


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Writing this has actually been a lot of fun. I'm such a lame though… The characters have started talking to me and I can't keep them quiet! In a way this is more their story than it ever was mine… I'm hoping there's someone who understands what that means… If not, hopefully you'll continue to enjoy the story!

_Waking up doesn't matter; awake or asleep I feel the same numbness._

Kankuro's eyes lazily drifted open, and quickly slammed shut as piercing sun broke through the blackness. His head throbbed, his thoughts scattered. For a moment he forgot what had happened, where he was, the darkness he felt. He opened his eyes again. "Shit."

The alley seemed so different during the day. It had once appeared flashy, gaudy, and alluring, and now was bleached out by the sun. The neon signs were dead. Windows were shattered; trash was tossed around on the street. The place was dirty, cheap. It reflected, ironically, how he felt on the inside.

He carefully stood up, his head pounding. He couldn't really remember how it happened, but he must've passed out. He was glad: there were some memories one didn't need; he only wished he could be more selective of the memories he kept.

He staggered along the alleyway, until it opened up to a main street. He paused, remembering how bad he felt last night, and compared it to how much worse he felt now. He couldn't decide what was more necessary: food, sleep, or a bath. He made his decision and started walking towards the bathhouse, keeping his head low.

There weren't too many people out, and he realized the sun was already starting to set. He must've been passed out for quite a while. He was also, thankfully, a stranger in to most of the people in the village, so he wasn't recognized. Although, he wasn't really sure he could recognize himself.

When he entered the bathhouse, he spoke as little as possible. He was given a solitary room, at his request, and left alone. He couldn't bear to look in the mirror, and wasted no time in peeling off his stale clothes.

He stepped into the steaming water and sighed. It felt so _good_. He waded all the way in and closed his eyes. He sat and breathed. Nothing had ever felt so good. All of his weariness, his dread and anger, and almost all of his hurt seeped away as he relaxed. How had he gotten here?

_I can't tell where I've been, only that it's far away from who I am._

Sitting in the calmness he had found, Kankuro longed for everything to make sense. He couldn't find a rational reason why things felt so twisted up inside of him. He knew he'd loved Kiba, right? That had been the obvious part of the equation. But maybe there was more to it than that. Did he know what love really meant? It wasn't something he'd ever questioned. A Shinobi's world wasn't a place for love. How could he ever face another mission, knowing there was a large chance he would be killed, when he had someone at home longing for his return? How could he ever put someone else through that? Furthermore, how could he stand letting someone else go like that?

Kankuro sat and thought. Thinking wasn't a problem because it required being logical. He could do that. What he couldn't do was remember. Not just yet. Remembering meant opening up that darkness and inviting back his pain. He couldn't handle that right now.

And if, perhaps, Kiba was that one person Kankuro had let in, the one person to hold their own and give Kankuro exactly what he received, then what was he doing sitting here?

He had grown up hearing stories of shinobi who risked their lives for the ones they held dear. He always found them stupid and weak. He sometimes questioned their sanity. He had been raised with no mother and a father that was as ruthless as he was heartless. Kankuro had sealed himself off long ago.

But yet, hadn't he seen firsthand how hard Naruto had fought for whom he loved? He remembered Naruto's ferocity during the Chunin Exams when he fought Neji. Naruto hadn't won because he was fighting for himself. He fought for the validation of his dreams; he fought for Hinata and Lee. He even fought for Neji's own sake. How could Kankuro not acknowledge such strength?

And now, the most confusing part: why wasn't Kankuro fighting? He knew that he should be fighting to keep himself together, to keep Kiba close. But why was he letting things fall apart so easily? Why had he let himself to unravel?

His anger had returned and it brought hot tears of frustration. Kankuro choked on the thick tears and the water lost it's calm. How had he let this happen? Had he really loved Kiba? In all his life, he had never been so unsure.

_I can't hate forever, but love is what's pushed me so far away._

Slowly he sunk under the water and the silence reassured him. It spirited his tears away and he exhaled, finding some sort of peace again and the air bubbled to the surface. He rose, and began to wash. He couldn't stay much longer.

He stepped out of the bath feeling better than he had in a while. But he was fragile and he knew it. For now, though, even a false sense of calm was enough. He quickly dried off and then paused when it came to putting his clothes back on. They were filthy, crusted with dry sweat, sour and stiff. He tossed them into the bathwater, submersed them, and wrung them out repeatedly until he found them acceptable. Damp clothes were much better than soiled ones- or none at all.

Walking down the street, he noticed the sky had grown duller, darker and the nightlife was starting to gather, charging the air with electric energy. He needed to leave soon. He couldn't risk being seen like this. Even to a stranger on the street, his eye told his whole story, gave away his shame. He quickened his footsteps, lowered his head and continued towards the main gates of Konoha when his stomach growled. Damn it. He would never make it home like this.

Keeping his eyes peeled for familiar faces or curious eyes, he ducked into Ichiraku Ramen for a quick bowl of soup. Then he would leave, maybe for good. He sat down and asked the good-natured chef simply for some miso soup. The steaming bowl that was placed in front of him was worth much more than his meager request. He thanked the man and bent over to enjoy his meal.

As he lifted the broth to his lips, a flash of orange stepped up to the counter and Kankuro froze, his stomach clenched with ice.

"Hey Chef! I'm Back!" Naruto called. "Chef-" his sentence faltered as he noticed Kankuro. "Kankuro? Hey! How's Ki…" Before the sentence left his lips, Kankuro had vanished, leaving the steaming bowl of soup sitting untouched at the counter.

Kankuro couldn't stand being there anymore. Couldn't stand the questions it posed, nor the memories swirling thick in his head. He was heading home, back to Sunagakure, leaving Konoha behind.

_Can I ever find you again?_


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Well, I suppose I'm on a roll as far as developing the story goes. This chapter took a little longer to write than normal. I think it's because this is the point at which I realized why I rated it "M". Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! And please, PLEASE REVIEW! Without feedback I'll whither and die D:

_The silence is lonelier than I've ever known. _

Kiba had returned to his apartment, and not much else. He sat, filled a glass with water and managed to swallow some before feeding Akamaru and crawling into bed. What was it about heartache that made him so tired?

He curled up tight under the covers and pressed a pillow to his chest. His sense of smell was ridiculously keen, and he could faintly smell Kankuro on the sheets from the last time he had spent the night.

It managed to give him shivers and squeeze his heart at the same time. Kankuro smelled real, dry, like earth and muscle. Sensing it now aroused him as much as it pained him. His heart pounded in time with the one word pulsing through his mind, "why?"

"Can things really go on like this forever?" Kiba had grabbed Kankuro's hands, but he couldn't meet his eyes. "What happens when we have to face life? When you can't disappear and come visit me whenever you want, without a care in the world? Your brother's the Kazekage. Don't you think that comes with some responsibility? D- damn it!" Kiba was choking on tears now.

"Kiba-kun.." The other pleaded softly.

"No. Kankuro what happens when you leave and never come back? What happens when you die and I… I have to… I- I can't do this anymore…"

Kiba gave in to sobs that even Kankuro couldn't quell. How could he ever understand? There was nothing left to say; Kiba had ended the conversation. Kankuro kissed him on the forehead and left quietly.

And now Kiba was in the same bed, wracked with the same sobs. He wished he had listened, had let Kankuro hold him and kiss him and let him lie; tell him everything would be all right.

_I remember your touch as I feel my heart break._

Kiba thought he was done crying; it wasn't possible or fair that he could cry anymore for Kankuro. That should have been the end. He should be getting on with his life. But he was still crying, still trying to make sense of it all. The night closed in around him and he sobbed into his pillow. He knew in time he could be fixed, right?

After the first time Kiba had tentatively reached for Kankuro's hand, they became inseparable. Kankuro no longer disguised the fact that he visited Konoha without orders. In time, he even extended his visits, staying two or three days at a time. He spent his nights with Kiba.

Naturally, the first night had been the most awkward. The sun had set low as they returned to the apartment from their walk with Akamaru. Kankuro sat around for a bit, while Kiba chatted nervously, and eventually decided to leave.

"But it's so dark already… Wouldn't it be easier to leave tomorrow?" Kiba said. What he was suggesting thrilled him. Scared him even.

"Well of course. But it's not like I've got a place to stay." Kankuro looked him in the eye. Kiba just barely caught the mischief he had come to love finding there. For a moment, Kiba had though he was serious.

"Well, you could… I dunno… Spend the night with _me_." He posed the question coquettishly; the dog ninja now seemed to purr at Kankuro.

He played along. "That's quite a bold offer. I might need some time to think about it…" Kiba slipped his arms around the taller boy and pressed their lips together. It was a soft kiss, warm and inviting, a promise of what was to come. "Well I think you've convinced me." Kankuro said, a smile in his voice as they began to ready themselves for bed.

Kiba ran around his small, neat apartment collecting sheets and blankets and pillows. "Did you want the couch or the bed?" he asked absentmindedly, struggling with the pile in his arms.

Kankuro chuckled, and whispered in his ear, "I thought we could share."

Kankuro's hot breath on his ear drove Kiba wild. He swallowed back his anticipation, fighting the urge to tackle him then and there. "A-alright." Kiba stammered as he led Kankuro down the hall to the bedroom. "I'll change in here. The bathrooms to the left." He heard Kankuro's footsteps deviate from his own as he turned and shut the door. Before he changed into his own, he asked through the door if Kankuro needed to borrow pajamas.

"No thanks." Came the reply. Guess he thought ahead after all.

Kiba closed the door behind him as he stripped down to his underwear. He threw his clothes in a crowded hamper in the corner of his room and pulled on a pair of shorts and a thin T-shirt. He started to pull back the covers, feeling nervous and excited; not the least bit tired. He heard Kankuro enter the room behind him, and turned around.

Kankuro stood in the doorway wearing nothing but boxers. Kiba's heart stammered, and he eyed the older boy hungrily. His skin was creamy, smooth and pale. He was toned and surprisingly lean, but still fuller than Kiba, and taller. His eyes paused a moment on his package before he looked up and responded. "I… I thought you brought pajamas."

"Never said that," he replied stepping closer to Kiba and shutting the door behind him. "Just didn't need to borrow any."

The talking quickly ended as their lips met again. The curiosity, the need, was tangible this time, and both were content on giving in. The kisses grew deeper, followed by hands, exploring Kankuro's skin, his ridges and muscle. Kiba's hand stopped on his abdomen, Just below Kankuro's belly button and stroked the soft trail of hair that extended below the line of his boxers. Kankuro gave a moan, a hot exhalation of air, and moved Kiba back, laying him down on the bed.

Kiba's body was on fire as Kankuro laid a trail of kisses down his neck. He stroked Kiba's face and the touch was electric, immensely pleasurable. Kiba lifted his shirt and Kankuro continued to kiss him, trailing lower: his chest, his stomach. Kiba's breathing grew shallow, and quickened as his hands explored Kankuro's hips. He pulled him down, closer, pressing Kankuro against himself.

Their lips met again, the kissing wet, deep. Kiba bit playfully at Kankuro's lip, and he responded with another moan. Kiba felt his hardness pressed against Kankuro's, and warmth built up inside of him, along with a twinge of worry. He wouldn't go all the way, not yet. How could he, so suddenly? Could Kankuro sense it?

But Kankuro was right along with him, his thoughts not on sex. Not yet. They had plenty of time. Things slowed down, and Kankuro kissed his forehead gently. He climbed under the covers next to Kiba, wrapping him gently in his arms. The scent was intoxicating, and Kiba found that warmth again.

"Good night." He whispered, and they fell asleep, warm and content.

_Thick heat fills my head; pleasure numbs my mind._

Kiba's pillow was now hot and close under the covers. He had grown hard. He was, somewhere in his mind, ashamed of it, but he was swimming right now; lost in the pleasure of his memories. He reached under his waistband and, keeping this happiness in his head, this ecstasy, finished himself off, before he had second thoughts, before he could regret it. The warmth spread to every inch of his body as his muscles clenched and unclenched, and he relaxed, panting. He felt relieved and at peace, but he knew it was fleeting and temporary. He fell asleep though, before he could lose himself again in his contorted thoughts, the cycle that revolved around hurt, sadness, and confusion.

_My memories slip into the night._


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: I'm thoroughly excited by the fact that people are actually reading what I've spent time writing. That said, I'm sorry for everyone who's had to wait for this next chapter. The story is finally starting to require some thought, so, consequently, the chapter took longer to write. I've also been a little busy and have had a touch of writers' block. But the show must go on! Anyway, here you go! And thank you, those who have reviewed. It really means a lot. And if you haven't yet, please let me know what you think!

_The dry heat, the desert sand; I return to forget._

Kankuro took the grit and sand on his face as a blessing. He was away from the place that held his memories, for now the source of his pain. He walked through the desert, through the forceful wind, and hoped he could stay here, the heat drying up the rest of his love, his weakness. Unfortunately, he was left with confusion. At least now, though, he had time to think things through.

But not yet. He was just making his way back. Entering the village would be no problem. But facing Gaara would be a different story entirely. The main gates soon appeared through the haze of sand, and as he walked up to them, he stepped through and into the village. Let anyone try to stop him.

He continued to walk the familiar streets, winding through alleys, back roads, trying to avoid as many people as possible. It wasn't too difficult, considering that the village wasn't nearly as large as Konoha, and people mostly kept inside, out of the fierce wind.

He turned the corner and staring back at him, solemn, was Gaara. His arms were crossed stiffly; his gaze was unfaltering, cold. Kankuro looked into his eyes, excuses forming in his mind, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Gaara turned around and started walking. Kankuro had no doubt that he was expected to follow.

He kept his distance, though, as they made their way towards the central building of the city; it was also the largest. The Kazekage's office was perched on top, looking out over the city, off into the eyes of the desert.

Stepping inside, out of the harsh winds felt nice. He hadn't realized how chapped his lips and face were. They made their way up the tower, to the circular chamber at the top. The silence was deadening; Kankuro was nervously anticipating Gaara's words. He wondered if they were to be spoken in rage or disgust. Perhaps there was the slightest chance that compassion would be prevalent.

"You've been assigned a mission. You and Temari leave tomorrow. Do not disappoint me." That's all that was said. Kankuro stumbled for a response as he watched Gaara melt to sand, crumble and disappear, leaving Kankuro alone in the silence.

_But, not to forgive. Will it ever be enough?_

He and Temari set out the next morning as instructed, although neither of them really understood what the mission entailed. Also, they were curious as to why they had been the only two assigned to the squad. But, again, Gaara had simply given them the order to leave and a destination, expecting results. Hopefully things would become clearer in time.

He kept to himself as much as possible, unsure of how well he could keep up his façade, the front that kept him going, kept him sane. Not knowing what would be required of him didn't soothe his frayed nerves either. But it was just one mission. He could handle it, right? Judging by the location to which they were headed, a small village on the outskirts of Suna's desert, it seemed to be nothing but a contrivance, a possible unresolved conflict; easy enough to fix.

But something in him, something deep, troubled him. If this were exactly what he thought it was, wouldn't the contract between Sand and Leaf still hold? Was it possible that they would meet the other half of their squad at the destination? The thoughts that started racing through his mind made his blood pound. The most pressing rising above the cacophony of loose, frantic thoughts: just whom would Konohagakure send to aid them?

_The day is false. The sky screams lies; they're mirrored in my eyes._

Kiba rushed down the stairs and out of his apartment, scrambling to tie his headband and pull his sweatshirt over his shoulder. Akamaru followed excitedly behind, not knowing what was going on, but excited to see some exhilaration in his partner.

The sun was bright and high in the sky as Kiba burst out of the doors and on to the street. He couldn't believe he slept in today, today of all days. It was probably close to noon already. Shit. Had his team left without him?

He had been confronted the previous day, on his walk with Akamaru. They had become a regular occurrence again. After the first one, Akamaru refused to let Kiba sink so low again, and he had to say he was glad. Getting outside, even if only for an hour or so, gave him something to think about other than Kankuro. He was grateful for that.

Even so, things hadn't started to make much more sense. He just pushed the thoughts aside, pushed the feelings away. Pain was something shinobi dealt with, not something they were allowed to manifest. It was a mistake to let himself feel so much. And so, he had buried these things deep inside himself.

He was walking slowly, enjoying the day that wasn't sunny, but foggy and rainy; still warm enough to enjoy. Akamaru lazily trotted beside him up the sidewalk. As they rounded the corner, Akamaru's ears perked up, his tail wagged and he let out a yip reminiscent of when he was still a puppy. It was Kurenai.

Her eyes lit up with relief and curiosity. "Kiba! It's so good to see you." She said as she reached down to pet Akamaru. "I haven't seen either of you in a while. I was starting to worry."

"Yeah I've been uhh… Pretty sick." He said, trying to mask whatever truths might slip out of his eyes. Thankfully, she didn't pay much attention.

"But you're doing better." She said, standing up to face him now. It wasn't a question, just a statement, an observation. Kiba's stomach dropped as he thought about the implications in her voice. "It's a good thing, too," she continued, " because there's a mission I need you to be a part of. An important one."

He wanted to sink into the pavement, into the earth, away, gone. He felt sick and rooted to the spot. He couldn't breathe. Could he handle this already, so soon? He had to, he realized as he mumbled his acceptance. Kurenai was pleased as she gave him the details and went on her way.

The rest of his time passed in a nervous blur. He kept the few details he had in the forefront of his mind. Small conflict. Outside Suna. Leave tomorrow. He repeated it like a mantra, as he tried to keep his cool. That night, he stumbled in and out of sleep, trying not to let thoughts of Kankuro, hurt and failure enter his mind.

And there he was, the next day, straining to run out of the village in fear of being late because of sleeping in. He was sweating now, and panting, but he was almost there. Damn it, today of al days. Go figure. He remembered how he'd dreamed last night and regretted sleeping at all.

He had dreamed of snow, something almost nonexistent in Konoha. The white fell softly as he walked through darkness. It wasn't warm or cold, it just was. As he walked, he came across lightness, a white glow coming forward; it was Kankuro, his face effervescent in the blackness. "I gave you all…" he whispered, his words almost swallowed by the dark.

Kiba reached out to him, but he faded away, leaving Kiba falling through the blackness, falling with the snow, which had turned blood red. He soundlessly screamed as he dropped through the agonizing depth of the black. He fell until he woke up, late.

He had finally made it to the gates of Konoha, tired, gasping for air. It took him a second to catch his breath and realize Kurenai was nowhere to be seen. He looked around, confused, the ice in his stomach growing. Had she really left without him? How could he let her down like that? She was counting on him. Why couldn't he do anything right?

He heard Akamaru bark playfully behind him and turned to see Hinata petting him, a smile on her face. She looked up. "Oh! Uhh… hello Kiba…" She stammered. "Um… all set to go?"

Confusion washed over him as he looked to Hinata for an explanation.

"On the mission?" she said, sinking into herself even more, becoming embarrassed. "T-to Suna…"

"But where's Kurenai? Where's the rest of our team?" Kiba asked, his nervousness growing again. It couldn't be just the two of them, could it? How could they hope to succeed?

"We'll meet up with the other half of our team when we get there… The t-treaty…" She said, trailing off.

"Treaty?" the minute the word jumped off his lips, he knew what she meant. The treaty. The rest of their team wasn't just in Suna; they were from the sand village. His nerves were replaced by fear, hard and sharp. He wanted to convince himself that there were plenty of sand shinobi; that he shouldn't be worried about a certain 18-year-old puppet master being on the same mission. He wanted to push the thought away from his mind, deny it, and rule it out as impossibility, insanity. But something told him he would be wrong.

"K-Kiba we should go…" Hinata said, stepping away from Akamaru. "We're already pretty late…"

"Right." Kiba answered, empty. Nothing in him wanted to leave. He glanced back at them, gave a short, sharp whistle for Akamaru and the three of them took off out of the village running, Kiba's anxiety knotting up in the pit of his stomach.

_Can I stifle my heart; silence it completely?_

Author's Note: Before I forget to give credit where credit is due, Kankuro's brief quote in Kiba's dream was taken from "I Gave You All" by Mumford & Sons. Extraordinary band. You should check them out.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: So I'm completely in love with this story. I just thought I'd let you know. I suppose if you're reading this you've got to love it just a tiny bit because you've stuck with it. So, I applaud you for being here, and I thank you profusely! My goal is for you all to be in love with this story… Let me know if I'm anywhere close to achieving it.

_Thrust into the uncomfortable, unknown._

Kankuro bit his lip, the sudden pain forcing him to concentrate. The puppet he controlled, _Gokiburi_, cockroach, was far off, scuttling over the sand, trying to sense what it could. Kankuro crouched in the sand; sweat formed on his forehead, his fingers nimbly controlled the delicate threads of chakra. Suddenly, he felt a presence, a shift in the atmosphere. It was still a way off, but there was no mistake: three separate entities, each with formidable power, were headed their way.

"There's three, they'll be here soon." He said, calculative. Temari stiffened next to him.

"It's about damn time." She had grown impatient. But she was the least of Kankuro's worries. Why did he sense three separate chakras? Was it possible that they needed a team of five to settle what was happening? It was true he hadn't seen for himself the magnitude of what was going on, but it couldn't be that bad, could it?

Another thing that made him uneasy was the feel of the third chakra itself. Gokiburi was excellent at reading chakra and assessing skill from a distance. But there was something cryptic, something off about this third presence; it almost wasn't human.

And yet, he found more for himself to fret over. The mystery of just who the ninja were ate at him. Please… Please not Kiba. He forced himself to say it, admit it. He forced himself to beg. He couldn't handle it. Shinobi weren't allowed to show weakness. But what would he do if seeing Kiba was the only thing that could pull out the weakness he had tried so hard to shut away? He shook with anger and fear as he pulled the puppet back. He couldn't let himself think like that. Couldn't let himself think.

Temari saw the tension build in his body and snickered. "Afraid, Kankuro?" She kept cool, even though she had to admit, she was slightly nervous about their teammates as well. But nowhere near as anxious as Kankuro seemed to be.

Kankuro didn't respond, simply picked up the small puppet, and cradled it in his hand briefly, admiring the detail in the small, wooden insect, and put it away. The three were so close he could taste it. The sand swirled though, and he couldn't see them until they were maybe ten yards off. There were three, and as he saw this, his heart dropped even lower. The third shape was indeed not human at all. But, if it wasn't human… He knew the answer before he was ready to admit it. The word dog hit him hard and fast and echoed in his mind.

Honestly, Akamaru was one of his favorite things about seeing Kiba. Although Kiba could probably tell, Kankuro didn't like letting on how much he cared for the dog.

Once, after spending the night at Kiba's, Kankuro woke early the next morning. He let Kiba sleep and got out of bed. Akamaru greeted him in the kitchen. Kankuro had never had a dog before, never really interacted with an animal of any kind. But, he loved how responsive the dog seemed. Akamaru cocked his head at Kankuro, who, in return, reached down and pet him.

By the time Kiba walked in, Akamaru was rolled over, playfully kicking his legs as Kankuro scratched his belly. Kankuro turned around ad blushed, not only because he was caught with a smile on his usually somber face, but also because Kiba stood in his boxers, an air of sleep still clinging to him. Kankuro gave him the look of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Kiba couldn't help but laugh. "Looks like you made a friend." He said. "I better leave you two alone." He turned out of the kitchen and started walking back toward the bathroom.

In a blur, Kankuro landed in front of Kiba, a playful glint in his eye. "Actually, you're the one I want to be alone with." He pulled the younger boy close and kissed him. It was sweet, and perfect after just waking up: as light as the sun pouring through the windows, and yet the undercurrent was more intense, the night that had slowly slipped away.

Kankuro took advantage of Kiba's nakedness, running his hands over his stomach, his hips. Kankuro started to kiss him deeper when he felt a strong weight on his back, followed by a heavy, wet tongue slipping over his ear.

As the two boys broke apart, Kiba laughing hysterically as Kankuro tried to wrestle off Akamaru, who was trying to lick every inch of his face.

The memory faded into the desert heat and was blown away with the sand, as Kankuro stood stiff, tense, and stared into the eyes he knew so well.

_My fears are ripped out of my chest; thrown out onto the table._

Neither boy spoke. The sand swirled between them, tossing around the words that had withered, unspoken. Kankuro's mind was blank. Part of him was overjoyed, amazed that Kiba still existed; in reality it hadn't been very long at all, but he had been pushed out of Kankuro's mind for what seemed like an eternity. Seeing him now was almost unfathomable. The other part of him wanted to run. Run from his fears, run from his anger. He couldn't afford now to do something he would regret. The only problem was, he didn't know if he'd regret kissing him or punching him more. So, he stayed still.

Temari spoke first. "Well I'm glad you finally made it. But getting right to the point, none of us really knows what we're up against here. She was already assuming the position of leader. Kankuro looked at Kiba, at himself, at Hinata... No one else was better suited for it. Even Akamaru seemed off; the tension between the boys was wearing on him as well.

"But what none of you know," she paused now, and everyone was caught on her words, even Kankuro. She had been keeping information from him? Had she even known who their teammates were from the beginning? She continued. "Is that I have explicit directions from both the Hokage and Kazekage…" she paused again, meeting all of their eyes with hers. They were unflinching. She was speaking the truth. "…To kill everyone involved with this battle upon sight."

Hinata let loose an audible gasp. Even Kiba's eyes widened. Kankuro kept his shock internal, and waited for her to continue. "We've been assigned to ensure that the conflict stops here. The ninja who invaded this village employ devastating Genjutsu, allowing them to manipulate anyone into following their orders. Therefore, it's essential that we extinguish everyone we see, because there's no telling who's an enemy or an ally." She stopped there, letting it all sink in.

"S-surely there's another way…" Hinata said quietly. "There must be…" she looked on the verge of tears. Although she had become undoubtedly stronger since Kankuro last saw her, her nerves still hadn't improved much. He remained silent as he thought about what the mission would entail. He remembered the chakra he felt earlier, and began to fear now for himself, for his life, not for his heart. It was the first time in a long time.

"Temari" Kankuro began. He could feel Kiba's eyes on him as he spoke, but he pressed forward. "What I felt earlier was immense… I'm not exaggerating. There's a serious chance we won't all survive." His voice was toneless as he stopped speaking and stared at the ground.

"I don't expect any of you to go into this unaware of what's required of you. I'm not forcing you to stay." She said, addressing the group again. "But if the prospect of death frightens any of you, then you have no right to call yourself a shinobi."

_They're yours to bet on, but you'll never win._

The sky had darkened, to the west the dying sun was giving in to the deep purples and blacks on night. Kankuro stood on the edge of the camp they had set up, and looked out at the stars. They were bright out in the desert, one thing he always missed when he went away. They shone clearly, like the twinkling eyes of a curious beast.

He refused to go to sleep, not right away. Once it was decided that no one, not even Hinata was backing down, they set up two tents, Temari and Hinata taking one, leaving he and Kiba to the other. Kankuro had wandered off too look at the stars and wouldn't return until he was positive Kiba had fallen asleep. He still couldn't find anything to say to him, and he was too afraid, too anxious to even try.

He sat on the cooling ground and laughed bitterly at himself. He was back where he started. Running away had gotten him nowhere. Maybe not quite nowhere. He was closer to his problems now than he had been before, and he felt himself unravel because of it.

"Why…' he whispered to himself as his voice broke. "Why couldn't I be enough?" Why couldn't he fix things? Why was he able to be confused, to be broken, to hate and to love, but not feel wanted, not be fixed?

Hot tears sprang to his eyes and fell on the sand, leaving small, dark spots on its smooth surface. He tried to breathe, to calm himself, but he found more emotion, buried in between the choking gasps. He couldn't keep anything else inside. He was sick of hiding what he knew was there all along. Not letting himself _feel_ anything. He punched the sand, trying to calm himself, which only succeeded in hurting his hand and frustrating him more. Damn it, why was he so weak? He sobbed and searched for the answer under the stars.

_So I'll keep whatever's left, not enough to put back together._

Akamaru softly padded out of the tent, leaving Kiba snoring softly. He made his way over to the broken boy, his head held in his hands, struggling to breathe between sobs. He sat next to the boy, and cocked his head, waiting for him to notice. When he didn't, Akamaru tentatively sniffed at his face, licked the salty tears from his cheek.

Kankuro looked up and smiled as Akamaru pawed at him, anxious to be pet. Kankuro's tears subsided as he gently scratched the dog behind the ears, under his chin, along his belly. "Hey boy…"

Soon though, Akamaru started walking back towards the tent, and Kankuro chanced following him. Akamaru laid down outside, fully intending to stay there. Kankuro reached down and whispered, "Thank you," patting him one last time. He slipped inside and lay down next to Kiba, already asleep, and drifted off peacefully himself.

_But maybe that means there's room to grow._


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: I'm so happy to be at this point in the story because it just keeps developing. I feel like I'm actually writing something now, not just toying with the idea. I just wanted to thank everyone who's been with me from the beginning, and everyone who may have just started reading. I hope to continue writing at this very happy pace, and I hope you will continue reading whatever it is that I write! Thank you so much. Please Comment!

Pulling my consciousness taut, I can't tell reality from fantasy.

Kiba's head was warm and thick as he slept. He dreamed of sunshine this time, heat. Gone was the darkness, the black and the snow. And, instead of walking towards Kankuro, he was walking next to him, their hands clasped. There was vivid yellow, bright and clean, the warmth filling him up. Although he knew, somewhere in his mind, this was a dream and the pain of reality would find him soon, he stayed in the moment, letting himself feel happiness that he hadn't in a long time.

He turned to see Kankuro's face, which wore a smile Kiba had only seen when they were together like this. He was radiating, happy like the sunlight, like their love. It broke Kiba's heart to see him like this, to realize that this was not only a dream, but a memory of what was once very real. The yellow faded into gray as he was pulled from sleep.

Akamaru sat, looming over him, willing him to wake up. Something in his expression told Kiba to hurry. He realized Kankuro wasn't lying next to him. In fact, he didn't know if Kankuro had slept there at all. But, his scent lingered strongly, letting Kiba believed he must have been inside the tent, if only for a short time. And the small tent now seemed too empty, the desert too quiet, which, he decided, meant he should leave too.

He stepped out into the early morning, clear and bright. The desert was unfamiliar, calm. Akamaru trotted to his side, eager at his awakening. Kiba scratched him behind the ears absentmindedly as he surveyed what was going on around him.

Hinata wasn't around, but Temari was already packing up their tent, rolling it away in preparation for their mission. Kankuro sat on the outskirts of their camp with his back to Kiba. Kankuro's presence was still a strange thing to him. It was surreal. If he didn't see him sitting there, he would have convinced himself that seeing him the day before was another dream.

Of course, making the entrance they did, he had no time to show his surprise at seeing the puppet ninja, let alone let his mind process it. He wasn't only shocked; he had been afraid, terrified even, of himself, of how he might feel now. He was embarrassed, especially because he had left Kankuro on such cloudy terms. And, underneath it all, there was happiness, an excitement to it all that set his heart racing.

He looked over the young man again, finding what he always loved, and loved seeing again: his broad shoulders, large yet toned frame, his slightly muscled neck, lean and Kiba knew how perfectly soft it was to kiss.

Akamaru barked at his side, as Kiba realized his heart was racing again. He was pulled from his thoughts, though, just in time to notice Hinata's return.

_Building myself up, I stay grounded._

"Good." Temari said, noticing Kiba. "Now that we're all finally awake, we can start planning our next move." Her tone was firm yet approachable, practiced. She was a natural leader. "Kankuro, get your tent packed up, would you?"

He didn't complain or refuse. He simply left his solitude, walked past Kiba without a word, and started taking down the tent. Temari crouched down and began to draw in the sand with a kunai. There were two circles when she was finished, one significantly larger than the other. She pointed to the smaller one and said, "This is where we are now, and this is the approximate size of our site compared to this," she pointed to the larger circle, "the battlefield, which was once a village. From what Kankuro's been able to gather," she said, glancing at him. He was still preoccupied with the tent. She was talking for him an awful lot. Did that mean he had just as much as Kiba to think about? Or maybe he had just as much to hide.

"The energy expelled has decreased exponentially as they've killed each other off." She paused and gave everyone a level stare. "Which means, the battle's nearing the end. We've basically been left to clean up what's left." What bothered Kiba was the fact that when she said "what's" left, she really meant "who".

Kiba was especially surprised that Hinata had opted to stay. She really had grown as a shinobi, right before his eyes. There was a sinking feeling in his chest as he realized how inadequate he now felt. He remained not only out of fear, but also out of a lack of ability to say no. He didn't at all feel like an asset; he didn't even pack away his own tent. He pushed at sand with his foot and lowered his eyes.

"Our goal is to be quick, efficient and thorough. And in order to achieve that we'll all need to be on board. So I'll ask one more time: Is there anyone who feels the need to leave?" Temari gave another even glance at everyone, including Kankuro who had moved closer to the group, the tent packed away.

Kiba shifted his gaze and his eyes met Kankuro's for a second. But he saw what he needed to. His eyes were alive, possibly with the same mischief he used to know so well. They were challenging him. Can you do this? Are you strong enough to keep pushing? Kiba tried his hardest to answer yes. Just watch me.

"All right." Temari said when no one backed down. "Then we get in and take care of business. Starting now." She pulled the fan off of her back and with a fluid motion, erased the evidence of their existence on the small patch of desert. After the gust had passed, the desert was again eerily quiet. And then she was off, leaving Kiba and the others to follow.

The nearer they got to the village, the more they began to sense what had happened there. Standing right outside, the hairs on Akamaru's back were raised, sensing the incredible chakra. Kiba could smell death in the air. This was the first time he had truly feared the mission.

They reached the top of a hill of sand, the sun harsh and dry as they beheld what was left of the village. Buildings, if they still stood at all, were in shambles- the wood splintered, roofs and windows gone; dist settled, along with sand, over the wreckage and bodies spattered with dried blood and crusted with earth littered the streets. The sight made Kiba sick and angry. He clenched his fists as he heard Akamaru whimper beside him.

"Your caution starts now." Temari said as they tentatively walked forward. "Stay sharp. Remember the enemy's still here and their Genjutsu is a serious threat." Kiba noticed he wasn't the only one who was now tense. Hinata looked more scared than usual, her eyes wide, she started to tremble. Temari, he could tell, was less sure of herself than normal as she gripped her fan tightly. And he could even sense Kankuro's uneasiness, not that it showed on his face, but Kiba could sense it- he could still read Kankuro so well.

Suddenly he noticed that Hinata was pulling herself together. She was forming hand signs quietly next to Temari. Kiba recognized the sequence and was relieved at her common sense.

"Byakug-" She was cut off before she finished by a kunai, slicing through the air at her face. She quickly ducked at the same time as Temari sent a stream of wind in the direction it was thrown. Soon, another flew at them from the opposite side, and another. "Go!" shouted Temari.

But Kiba felt his mind being squeezed; a pressure was forming, dark, unfamiliar. Was it the heat? The fear? He didn't understand. He felt like time was slowing down. The sounds around him deepened and dropped until everything was muted. His vision had grown cloudy, a thick, dark haze smothering his eyes. He felt like he was falling, like in his dream, only there was no angelic, haunted Kankuro, only syrupy blackness, absorbing all light and sound and all of Kiba. As he fell deeper into the black, he pulled from his mind Temari's words, which echoed off the walls of his head, not letting him forget. "Genjutsu…"

And then, he felt the pressure again, along with a new presence; an unfamiliar voice sounded in his head. It was low, toneless and cold. "Kill." It said. "Go and Kill." Kiba opened his eyes.

But when the earth beneath my feet shatters, how can you say I'm still alive?

Red, Kiba saw now, and he felt a rage, hot, that he didn't know. It consumed him, burning, inconsolable. His breath came in, hot; pain he felt and oh it hurt but it was good. Too good, it must be satisfied and oh yes, there was blood he needed and more words, so many he couldn't think, just know hot and red and it was inside them, wanting to be spilled.

The girl was quiet; she was close. The close girl was first, the quiet one, and he pounced, animal, claws, gnashing teeth and he drew blood, drew hot, dense, red. She screamed but he couldn't hear. He could feel her pulse fade, but he could only hear the voice in his mind, only see red. "Good." It purred, and he wanted more.

He was moving, fast now, the others knew, knew he could not be stopped and therefore must be stopped but how could he stop when there was so much blood? So much wet, dark heat to drain? The boy, yes he would be next. He would be worth the effort.

The boy was nearly a man and he was thick and powerful, muscle and oh blood was in him, so rich it would be worth it. Claws sharp and ready and wanting to take it all from him, pounce again and feel something pull, feel his face. See it, know it. Something… good.

He could see Kankuro's face, saw his eyes; he saw past the red and could hear past the voice that screamed, "Kill!" only to hear the one thing that could save him.

"Kiba…" He watched the boy' s lips move, felt the vibration of his voice and he heard it. For a moment the black lifted, the red was gone. He thought of sunshine. Kiba could feel the presence pushing at him again, could just barely hear the whispering reverberations of the voice trying to reclaim his mind.

But now he was fighting back, keeping the sunshine in his head, his sunshine. And he looked at Kankuro's face and saw light, yellow, brightness and it pushed the voice away, cut through the murkiness. His heart slowed, his mind calmed. He fell to his knees.

_Your face compels me between two worlds, neither of which is certain anymore._

Standing back in the shadows, under rotting wood and thick decay that lay over the village, the voice was watching. "I lost him, brother." It said, irritated.

"As I knew you would." Said a new voice. It was blacker than the first, with more power, more darkness. "Which means it's my turn." They returned their focus to the scene before them, the ninja they toyed with.

The second voice had a faint smile as he worked his concentration, forcing out his energy. The first was livid with anticipation. He leaned forward, licking his lips. "How will I know when you've done it?" he asked impatiently.

"You will know." Replied the second one.

Suddenly, the sunshine was blackened, reddened, destroyed. The thickness in Kiba's mind was stronger now, fiercer, and the voice that screamed was a new authority, with new power and a more terrifying presence.

"It is finished." Said the voice, rising coolly from the darkness.

And then, Kiba knew what he had missed from the beginning, the obvious; the blood, hot, red, the life was inside him. Kiba's knife pierced his chest, and the voices watched him fall.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: So I've had some minor writer's block, and reworked some of what I was writing in my head. Thinking about the plot I think is the most essential part, so I've done more thinking that writing in the past couple of days. Although I don't like putting up a new chapter without completely writing the next, I decided you've waited long enough(:

_Is it possible for a single tear to hold so much pain?_

Shock ripped through Kankuro, ice exploding through his core. He couldn't breathe, his head felt empty, his thoughts scattered. He sweated at the panic spiraling inside him; shaking, he found the will to step forward.

His fear escalated as his steps quickened and his shock manifested, along with his disbelief, his anger, as tears: a flow that leaked from his eyes and trailed to the ground, constant and painful.

As he reached the dog ninja, he knelt on the ground and willed himself to touch his chest, his face, feel the shallow breaths pumping in and out of his body. He was slipping away. Kankuro peeled off his jacket to reveal the wound, which blossomed, red and warm. The stream of blood had trickled down, and the flow was already beginning to weaken. Kankuro stared, horrified at the gaping tear in Kiba's perfect flesh, slashed right above his heart; deep.

Save him, Kankuro. The thought rushed through his head, but he couldn't move. He didn't know how to do what he wanted. He couldn't knit together flesh and bone, couldn't staunch blood or bind vessels- it wasn't his place. He knew what was dead: wood and screws, metal and paint. His puppets were cold, mechanical. Kiba was warm, beautiful and alive. Barely. This was something Kankuro couldn't possibly hope to fix. He had been responsible enough for whatever damage was already done to Kiba's mind, his heart. Now that his body matched, he was left hopeless. Save him, Kankuro, the voice urged uselessly.

"Save him, damn it!" It was Temari who shouted. She knelt over Hinata, doing what she could to stop the bleeding, to keep her alive. Flecks of blood spotted her face and her clothes and hands were completely soaked. The look in her eyes was fierce, the fight in her making itself known. Kankuro saw how tragic their situation was, and yet the glint in Temari's eye told him to keep fighting as well.

He looked back to Kiba, whose breathing had become scarcer. Kankuro remembered the look they shared before they left, how he challenged him. The contact their eyes had made was unmistakable for both of them. Can you do this? Are you strong enough to keep pushing? Save him, damn it.

Kankuro gathered whatever was left of him and reacted. His tears stopped as he inhaled deeply, and acted on instinct, not emotion. He cut away what was left of Kiba's shirt and used it to blot at the wound. He cleaned up the mess, mopping away the blood that had began to thicken, coagulating to his skin. His pulse was almost nonexistent. The gash was left glistening, gaping.

Kankuro tentatively pressed the raw edges, gently, and a gasp of pain came from Kiba's mouth. Kankuro was glad to hear it. Kiba was cognizant enough to respond. But, now came the uncertain part.

Can you keep pushing? If Kiba's answer had been yes, then Kankuro's needed to be just as resilient, just as confident. He steadied himself and traced his hand over Kiba's wound, delicately releasing thin threads of chakra. His concentration didn't falter. It couldn't; there was no room for error. The thread he used was thinner than what he used with his puppets, and took more stamina to maintain. The threads were thin, webby, butterfly wings tracing the wound, light, nearly invisible. He had strength, he found, and began to weave the threads together, a lace-like constellation, sinew and muscle tightened together as he tightened the slack.

The edges of the wound met, and the chakra accepted the flesh, meshing together. Although the internal damage still needed attention, Kankuro had worked quickly to seal the wound off and bind the skin together, jumpstarting the healing process and removing any immediate threats.

Kiba's breathing, albeit still shallow, had become more regular, and his pained gasps were replaced with gentle breaths as he slept. Kankuro delicately folded the boy into his arms, holding him close. "Kiba kun…" he whispered softly, sadly. "How can we fix this?"

_Can one heart carry the entire burden?_

He approached Temari and Hinata to find that things had gone similarly well. Hinata was bandaged and also looked to be sleeping. Temari looked up. "You can lay him here, next to her." She began to move herself to make room when Kankuro replied.

"No." She looked at him blankly.

"What are you saying? The enemy is still here. We haven't accomplished anything. The mission-"

"I said no, Temari. Is the mission worth this?" he said, offering up the boy he held. She looked, unsteadily from Kiba to Hinata, then held Kankuro's gaze. He could see the conflict in her eyes. Even she knew that there was no way they were leaving alive if they confronted what was there. It would be a complete waste of human life to continue to fight. But the thought of abandoning the mission scared her almost as much as the thought of failing it. Fear was a good persuader.

"Stop, Kankuro. Abandoning this mission is unacceptable. Gaara-"

"I don't give a fuck about what Gaara thinks." He cut her off and stared her down, all deference gone. He would not let her lead them blindly to their deaths. "To stay here is certain death. And then, the only thing accomplished is a waste of shinobi. We need to gather ourselves. I agree we need to fight. But right now is not the time."

Passion took root in his eyes and Temari knew her younger brother wouldn't be dissuaded. She bit her tongue and held her anger inside, suppressed her hurt. She picked up Hinata and placed her over her shoulder. "Then let's get the hell out of here. Fast." She turned back to Kankuro, then they both sped off from the darkness they encountered, Akamaru trailing behind.

"It seems, for now, we've won, brother." Said the first voice. It crawled from the darkness like something slimy, something dying.

"It seems we have indeed." The second one responded. "But they'll come back." He was somewhat drained from the effort he had just exerted, but seeing the level of the shinobi they were up against made his mouth water. They were worth his time. "And when they do, that's when the real fun begins." The voices watched the ninja leave as they too retreated, back into darkness.

_Can a kiss ever convey enough emotion?_

Kankuro found it hard to look at Kiba as he laid, the soft, regular beeping of his heart rate monitor made the only sound in the room. He looked peaceful, sleeping under the sterile sheets of the hospital bed. He gathered his courage and reached out gently, caressing the younger boy's face. "Kiba kun…"

Their retreat had gone smoothly, a quick retracing back to the sand village, where they immediately rushed to the hospital. Every step back, every minute waiting for diagnostics, for test results, failure bit into Kankuro. They hadn't accomplished anything; their enemy was still at large. He sat, his heartbeat speeding up in his chest as he worried over Kiba, and even Hinata.

His anxiety was interrupted by a lithe nurse, who told them that although the damage to both of them was critical, the danger had passed and both would be fine, after a couple of nights in the hospital, mainly for observation. She then announced that they were welcome to visit briefly with their teammates.

Kankuro let his tension out in the form of a sigh, and let his head slip into his hands. Relief spread through his core, cool, calming him. "I'll just head home then. We'll get some rest and…" Temari trailed off, her voice unsteady, unsure. "We'll figure something out." She finished.

As she turned to leave though, a thought occurred to Kankuro and a slight smile played on his lips. "Don't forget to report back to Gaara." He turned towards Kiba's room and started walking before she could finish scowling.

He had been there for a while now. All he could do though was stroke Kiba's face and hope that somehow, this awfulness he felt would heal with Kiba's wounds.

"You saved his life, you know." The small nurse had returned quietly. Her starch white uniform matched the room. "The damage to the chakra network directly above his heart as well as the surrounding tissue was severely damaged. If you hadn't done what you did, his chakra network wouldn't have healed at all. His heart might have stopped functioning by the time you got him back here. He owes you his life." Her smile was reassuring, unaware of how much her words affected him.

Kankuro mumbled a brief thanks, and she exited as quietly as she entered after reminding him not to stay too long. He owes you his life. But did Kiba know what that meant? Did Kankuro? They were linked again, perhaps now even closer than before, which caused him considerable pain. How would things be now? Would they hide again, run from the truth? Did Kiba even have anything to hide?

He remembered the way Kiba charged at him, remembered his eyes. They were crazed, thirsty, unrecognizable; terrifying. And yet, he was somehow able to grab hold of who he was, deep inside. It was something not Akamaru, not even Hinata could do. Kankuro didn't want to think that he still meant so much to the boy, because doing so would mean admitting that he had feelings too, feelings strove to ignore, regret. It was a bitter game they played he realized, but one he played willingly.

He stroked Kiba's cheek again as tears sprang to his eyes. Would he ever be done crying? Seeing him there, so close, so real, brought back the familiar excitement, the quickening of his heartbeat. It was coupled now with something new, something he couldn't quite remember feeling before. It was vulnerability. Not only were kiba's defenses down, his entire being unshielded, but Kankuro realized his hardness too had worn away. The raw connection of emotion that he found now was incredible.

He wiped his eyes before his makeup ran, before he stained the crisp white sheets. He leaned over and kissed Kiba on the forehead, then made his way to the door. He noticed Akamaru, curled up in the corner of the small room and scratched behind his ears, the dog's favorite spot. Akamaru returned the gesture by licking his hand. We'll figure this all out, their gazes seemed to agree. Kankuro took one last look around the room before leaving.

_I do know that nothing is certain._


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: I feel like it's been a long time since I updated. Too long… I hope this isn't too disappointing. I haven't visited the story in my head for a while either, but after looking back over this, I'm plotting again(: Enjoy!

_Inhaling shadows, exhaling fear; I'm lost._

Kill. Go and kill. The voice echoed in Kiba's head, the voice that spoke in a harsh, compelling whisper. Terrified, Kiba was drawn to it, considered giving in. He could see blood, red and deep. An urge called to him, the voice in the blackness, telling him the blood was good, the heat and iron luring him in. And then, he realized it was his blood, pouring from him, hot. His chest was gashed, crimson. He bathed in blood and felt searing pain as he screamed, his voice drowned out by the liquid, rising up to cover his mouth.

Kill, go and kill. The voice still sounded loud, close, as if Kiba could feel it on the back of his neck, even sinking into the blood. Come to me. Kiba felt a hand close around himself, the space becoming claustrophobic. He opened his mouth to scream again and the blood rushed in and kept pouring. He was drowned by it, smothered by the blackness and suffocated by the voice.

And then, sound and sight returned as he woke, sitting upright to scream, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest. He felt the tears in his eyes as his voice broke. He was shaking and covered in sweat; his ears rang. He was aware of Akamaru's tense, worried whine, somewhere. What else was it that he sensed?

His nose told him before his eyes or his ears. It was that scent, _his_ scent: dry, earthy, real. He could smell sweat and anxiety, could sense how nervous the other boy was. He could just barely hear his breathing, his heartbeat in the darkness, although his own was louder, pounding furiously; his head still reeled from the nightmare.

And now, he wondered, what would happen next? All of their emotions, all of their stamina had been pushed farther than they dared. What was to happen now? Why did it hurt so much to let go? Kiba waited in the dark for the answers.

He spoke, the words Kiba heard a thousand times, yet the only words that would reach him now, words that held more meaning than anything else. "Kiba kun…" The syllables were hesitant, offered to the darkness gently. Kiba's heart stopped, and when it started again, he felt what had been missing the whole time. It was a deep feeling, something he never thought of admitting, something profound in its enormity and yet quiet in its presence. Love?

Kankuro stepped forward into the moonlight that fell through the curtains and stood, lit by the pale luminescence of the night.

_Whispers surround me, suppress me, but cannot stifle your glow._

Kiba's eyes caught his, only for a moment, before clouding over with tears. They fell from his eyes, refusing to stop. Kankuro was there and the darkness was gone. The darkness he had been trapped in for so long had melted away. The voices were quiet and the red was replaced by moonlight filtered through tears.

He tried to breathe through all of this, but it came out as choking sobs. His hands gripped the sheets hard, trying to calm himself, but he gasped harder as more tears fell. Kankuro was there; he had stayed. Kiba was lost in the darkness, had ran into it willingly to hide, and Kankuro was waiting for him, had been there the whole time. And Kiba couldn't even stop the tears to enjoy it.

Kankuro stepped closer to the boy, held him in his arms. Kiba folded into him, willingly, enveloped in his warmth, his scent, and his care. He still heaved for air as the tears came to him but Kankuro didn't try to stop them. He just sat and held him, whispered to him that it would be all right.

"You… you stayed." Kiba managed to say. His sobs were dying, quelled by the closeness of Kankuro.

"Kiba…" there was sadness in his eyes and in his voice as he replied. "Where else would I go? I tried running away, but it brought me back to you…" His voice started to tremble. "And being close to you was what I was afraid of because-" He paused and took in a pained breath. His eyes shut tightly before they leaked tears as well. "Because no matter how you feel, no matter what you say or how far I am from you, I love you… Kiba, I love you." Kankuro didn't lose control, but had to fight hard to bite back tears that were ready to fall.

Kiba stared at him, losing all thought of what to say. Neither of them had ever said that before. What they felt, what Kiba had felt, was natural. It was everything he thought it should be, but never knew it should be called love. Love meant promises, love meant expectations. He and Kankuro had promised unspoken; they never expected anything. And he realized all along that he didn't want to let it be, too afraid of what could happen. To love meant he would give himself, his heart, to Kankuro; trust him with it. But how could he do that if he didn't even trust himself? So he found a way to end what they didn't call love. But what had ended? Not their feelings. If anything, they had only grown. What ended was Kiba's doubt.

And so, staring at Kankuro through tears and through moonlight, there was nothing he could say that would suffice. So he pulled him close and kissed him.

_I realize what I've done and I pray you'll forgive._

He trembled as their lips touched, the familiarity overwhelming. And yet, there was a new excitement to it, something they could both feel, strongly. Kiba began to move his hands over Kankuro's chest, own to his hips, connecting them behind his waist. The kiss deepened as Kiba let out a sigh of pleasure.

Kankuro's hands moved up to Kiba's chest, but pulled back as he realized his mistake. Kiba inhaled sharply, air hissing through clenched teeth. Kankuro shifted away from him, apologizing. Kiba winced as he smiled at Kankuro, a wink of mischief in his eyes. "It's alright." He said, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight. "Pain's not such a bad thing."

Kankuro still seemed uneasy, but Kiba coaxed him onto the bed. Kiba hugged him close, realizing what should have been obvious to him the whole time. "You saved me." It wasn't a question, wasn't an accusation. It was just a statement, although it was spoken with some disbelief and much gratitude. "I owe you my life…" he trailed off as the magnitude of what Kankuro had done became apparent. Kiba stroked Kankuro's cheek lightly, looking into his eyes. Kankuro smiled softly.

"You've already given me your heart." He said quietly.

Kiba chuckled. "You don't have to be so cheesy." Kankuro smiled as Kiba leaned in to kiss him again. It was electric, it lit Kiba up from head to toe, the pain in his chest nearly forgotten. He moved in closer, inhaling his scent, tasting him; feeling him.

Kankuro pulled away, a smile on his face as he playfully leaned in again and whispered in Kiba's ear. "There'll be plenty of time for this later. But you need your rest." Before he pulled away again he kissed Kiba's neck, driving him crazy. Kiba screamed on the inside. Damn it. I want you now.

For the first time since he had woken up, Kiba noticed the blankets draped over the armchair by the window. How long did Kankuro plan on staying? How long did he plan on Kiba staying? Kiba opened his mouth to protest but was silenced by Kankuro's finger, placed gently over his lips.

Suddenly, Kiba felt a heavy weight fall onto his legs, followed by big, clumsy paws and a massive tongue, sloughing at his face. Kiba laughed again, excited. "Hey boy!" he said, scratching him behind the ears. Akamaru seemed equally as happy.

Kankuro also reached out to pet him, and automatically Akamaru's tongue jumped from Kiba's face to Kankuro's arm. Kiba loved watching them interact, love the fact that Kankuro secretly cared about the dog as much as he did. He smiled, content, happier than he had been in a long time.

"I though it was my bedtime." He said slyly. Kankuro, the mischief in his eyes holding Kiba's stare, picked up the massive dog, muscles bulging with the strain, and placed him on the floor. Kiba took note of his arms, how well built they were.

"It is." He said as he leaned in and they kissed one more time. "Good night." He said as he walked back over to the armchair and sat down, wrapping himself in the thin blankets.

As Kiba lay back down he felt the sharp pain in his chest and realized how tired he actually was. He could sleep now, he told himself, the darkness was gone, the voices silenced. He closed his eyes and inhaled the sent of the room, the scent of Kankuro. His emotions welled up inside of him, warm and bright, and he started to doze off to the sound of Kankuro's steady breathing.

Through the warm haze of his mind, and somewhere between the night and the moonlight, Kiba whispered, "I love you." The words felt alive on his tongue, true. It felt good to let them out; the scariest thing also made him the happiest. The words floated through the room, but he never knew if they reached Kankuro. He fell asleep with the buzz of happiness in his head.

But underneath everything, there was the smallest memory of doubt. Not enough to make him question, not enough to push him away again. But it was just prominent enough to be heard, to be contemplated through the din. He ignored it as he slept, his mind far away, his heart soaring.

_I cannot live in the darkness, but with you I somehow survive._


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: hehe… _this _chapter ;)

_Your fingertips can break me; your gaze can destroy._

Bright sunlight filtered through Kankuro's eyelashes as he slowly opened them. He yawned and stood up, stretching his muscles out of the contortion of sleeping in the armchair. He sighed as his joints popped, relieving the stress that had been placed on his body. It felt good to stand, to move.

His eyes drifted lazily around the bright hospital room; sleep still clearing from his head, when he noticed the bed. The sheets were disheveled, pushed off to the side; Kiba was gone. Panic set in as Kankuro bit his bottom lip, trying to focus, scanning the room for signs of struggle, any signs of anything. He found none. Even Akamaru was gone. He stood in the room alone, anxiety welling, trying to make sense of what was going on.

Kiba was injured. He couldn't have healed so fast, couldn't have been able to just leave. And wouldn't Kiba at least tell Kankuro if he had left? His mind traveled into darker thoughts. The enemies they left behind were powerful, masters of the mind. Was it possible they could have manipulated Kiba, stolen him away without struggle in the dead of night? What about Akamaru? And why not Kankuro? Things didn't add up. Kankuro gathered himself and hurried out of the room, panicked.

Did anyone know? Had anyone noticed Kiba's absence? True, Kankuro hadn't really been allowed to spend the night, but he did so anyway. It occurred to him how bad the situation would look, then, if he were the one to report him missing. Think. He needed to think this out, plot his next moves carefully. He needed space. As he turned left and made his way to the roof, his worry for the missing boy multiplied, the beating of his heart accelerating, sweat beading on the back of his neck.

He climbed the clanking metal stairs, a dark cage that seemed to stretch eternally upwards; as he overcame stair after stair, his internal conflict gained momentum. Was he already too late? They were both gone, slipped through his fingers, the last grain of sand sliding effortlessly through the thin waist of an hourglass. How could something like this happen?

He continued upward, step after step, anticipating the calm, bright sky, the quiet. He needed it, needed to breathe, to really think; he needed to swallow back his worry, his fear; his confusion. Yes, he needed to breathe.

He reached the top stair, heard the wind surround him already, and could nearly feel the contrast of the sun's hot rays and the cool breath of the wind. His head cleared slightly as he opened the door and walked into the brightness.

Kankuro found Kiba in front of him and thought it was an illusion, an image placed in his head, a figment of imagination brought about by stress and delusion. There was a silence as they looked at each other, their eyes linked, communicating unspoken. Kankuro reached out, touched his hand to Kiba's cheek, confirming his tangibility, his realness.

"Um… Good morning…" Confusion spread across Kiba's face. Kankuro blushed slightly as he pulled his hand back.

"I just thought you were…" He struggled to justify his feelings, trying to fight the overwhelming embarrassment. "I just didn't know where you were. And I thought you were a lot worse off than it appears you are."

Kiba smiled at him, and reached out for his hand. Kankuro took it, liking Kiba's initiation, and the walked over towards the edge of the roof, where Akamaru sat, tail wagging happily as he surveyed the village.

"I'm right here." They sat on the edge, legs hanging off the roof, gazing out at the horizon. The sky was bright blue, piercing, and it made a harsh line where it met the pale sand. It seemed to stretch on forever, the sand swirling shapes in the distance, melding their imaginations into landscapes. It was fantastic. Kankuro wondered if Kiba found it similarly inspiring.

Kiba took a deep breath and appeared to be concentrating as Kankuro looked at him. "I can't believe you've hidden something like this from me for so long." Kankuro must have looked confused. "This village is so beautiful. The desert is so open, expansive. Sometimes I just need to think, let my mind open up too…" he trailed off, gazing into the distance.

Kankuro kept the silence intact; even Akamaru was quiet, all three of them wrapped up in their thoughts, in the beauty of the morning. Kiba leaned into Kankuro's shoulder, his face gently pressed to his neck. "Beautiful." He whispered.

_Your eyelashes dust my skin, sweep away lies; expose my core._

Kiba stayed at the hospital for two more days, and Kankuro stayed with him. By the time they found out Kiba was to be released, Kankuro's body was screaming with joy, free from the torment of spending another night in the armchair. Akamaru seemed equally as relieved, ready for his walks to become a regular occurrence again. Kiba was also ecstatic. His energy had been building up since day one, and his wound had caused him little pain and given him almost no trouble for the past day.

Before they left though, Temari was called to the hospital, to be made aware of Kiba's release. Kankuro, having not seen her in a few days, thought she looked considerably better than when they had returned from failing their mission and nearly losing their lives. She eyed up Kiba, giving him a healthy gaze, a look that summed up her approval. She would never say it out loud, but Kankuro could tell, she was glad Kiba had made such a full recovery.

Kankuro couldn't, though, recognize the feeling of forgetfulness that spread through him, as the three of them stood in the lobby, ready to make their way out. Suddenly, Akamaru cried out and took out running back, back into the hospital, startling everyone. Kiba was the first to chase after him, followed by Temari and then Kankuro, who had realized their mistake: they had forgotten Hinata.

Their entire hectic entourage burst into Hinata's room, headed by Akamaru, to find her sitting in bed, shocked at the intrusion. Then, Akamaru proceeded to jump at Hinata and lick her face, eliciting peals of laughter from her.

"Down boy!" Kiba said as he struggled to pull Akamaru off of her. Once everyone calmed down a bit, Kiba apologized. Hinata opened her mouth to respond when the small nurse, quiet and crisp, walked into the room. Surprise manifested in her raised eyebrows.

"Well, isn't this quite the party." She said, eyeing up everyone from Akamaru, fumbling over his clumsy paws, smiling trying to lick her too, to Temari, who stood at the door, semi-humiliated. The nurse calmly smiled and started to explain that Hinata was still to be under the hospital's care for one more day. After briefly describing the wounds and the depth of her recovery, she invited them all back the next day to take her home, and quietly exited.

Temari was the first to speak, addressing them all in her leader's tone. "It's good to see everyone in good condition so quickly after-" she paused, conflicted, " after previous events." She seemed genuine enough, but Kankuro wondered what she was getting at. He felt uneasy.

"But these recoveries means that business still needs to be attended to." She looked at Hinata now. "You'll be all set to leave tomorrow, which means tomorrow is the day we confront Gaara, regroup, and try this whole thing over again." She stopped, waiting for a response.

Fear and anger swelled in Kankuro's chest, and he could tell he wasn't alone. But he found truth in what had to be done. He couldn't let fear hold himself back. He swallowed it down and returned her stare.

Temari gave them a time to meet at the hospital, and said more details were to come. She left quickly, deliberately, ready for another taste of battle that was still far off in the other's minds.

Kiba and Kankuro gave brief goodbyes as well, coupled with Akamaru's barrage of dog kisses. After that was said and done, they also left.

Kankuro held Kiba's hand as they walked through the village, the sun hot on their backs. "We've got a whole day to kill." Kankuro said. Kiba smiled slyly, although Kankuro realized his word choice could have been better. Regardless, they continued walking as Kiba responded.

"I suppose we do. And…" he paused, his voice playful, "You just happen to know what there is to do for fun around here." He emphasized fun, as if he winked when he said it. Kankuro knew exactly what he wanted to do for "fun".

"I don't know." He said, feigning skepticism, playing along. "This is a pretty boring place. Why do you think I always come to Konoha?"

"I'd like to think it's because you wanted to see me. But I guess I'm just a distraction from all this boredom." He threw up his unoccupied hand in the air to wave around the desert city, making his point.

"How right you are, for being so young." Kankuro smiled.

"What? All right so you're like barely two years older than me." He thought about crossing his arms. "Sorry I'm so young and immature." He stuck out his tongue instead.

"Kankuro leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're cute when you pout." Kiba blushed; content to walk again in silence, Kankuro's hand feeling nice in his. "Let's go find something to do.

They turned the corner and walked for a bit, when Kankuro stopped suddenly in front of a large compound building made of pale sandstone. Kankuro started towards the door. It was a rather plain building. "Really?" Kiba said. "Does this really look like fun to you?" Kankuro just smiled and walked inside, followed by Kiba and Akamaru. Kankuro was glad Kiba wasn't asking too many questions, although he was kind of surprised he hadn't figured anything out yet.

He figured he would though, as he pulled a key out of his pocket and stopped in front of the last door on the left of the hallway. He opened the door to his apartment and walked inside.

Kankuro had hardly shut the door before being pushed against it, Kiba's hands moving over his body as he kissed him. Kankuro's hands slid down Kiba's back, pulling him closer, enjoying the kiss, the friction. Kankuro pulled away briefly to look into Kiba's eyes. "I thought this didn't look like fun." His voice hid a smile, seductive, suggestive.

Kiba's eyes seemed to answer for him, betrayed his love, his lust. Instead of replying, he leaned in for another kiss.

"Let's make ourselves a bit more comfortable." Kankuro said, wasting no time. He led Kiba by the hand through the small, modest apartment to his bedroom. A queen-size mattress stood in the corner, the light sheets tucked in neatly. The room was, for the most part, bare, the floor covered by simple carpeting, the walls a pale gold.

Kankuro fell on the bed, Kiba on top of him, straddling him, eyes gleaming, seeming to say, "You're all mine." And he was.

_Underneath everything I am, there is you._

The first time they had sex, it had been wonderful. Awkward, fumbling, but pleasurable. Neither of them had known what to do, what to expect. It was more of an anticipated experiment, a rhythm of two separate bodies, used, although tenderly, for two separate pleasures. But that felt like an eternity ago, compared to now, thought Kankuro.

Kiba was still on top of him, although their clothes, save for their underwear, were elsewhere. Kiba's kisses, trailing down Kankuro's stomach became more urgent, more intense. He reached the waistband of Kankuro's boxers, and playfully tugged on the elastic with his teeth. It snapped lightly on Kankuro's skin, and they caught each other's eyes again, both of their gazes raging now, their sexual tension rising to a peak.

Kankuro's hands on Kiba's hips slid lower, bringing his underwear down with them. Kiba also worked Kankuro's off his body, and they pressed together again, skin fully connecting with skin as they kissed.

Kiba moaned as Kankuro gently bit at his bottom lip. He could barely contain himself anymore. Kiba gave him another gentle, knowing look, yet determined, and pushed in. Kankuro felt it, felt heat ripple through his body. He felt Kiba inside him, and close to his core. He wanted to melt away into nothingness, into the heat, into Kiba. He pulled Kiba closer, drew him in deeper as their breathing intensified, along with the beating of their hearts.

The push and pull sped, the rhythm increasing, a beat in their heads, in their hearts. A song that sped toward the end, building into a grand crescendo, notes soaring high and lofty and bass booming, pounding down below.

Kankuro gasped as he felt heat spread, warmth spilling from inside of him. The energy that coursed through him, the waves of pleasure, rich and deep, filled his head with light and magnificent color, butterflies flooding behind his eyes, mosaics of color pieced together on their wings; stained glass sunshine streaming through his mind.

"Kiba kun…" As they lay, the last of their ecstasy floated out of them as panting breaths. They were left with warmth as Kankuro gently stroked Kiba's head, which rested on his chest.

"Kankuro…" Kiba breathed, his fingers tracing lazily along Kankuro's stomach. The love hung in the air, unspoken, the animalistic need satisfied. They lay content, amazed. They drifted together in and out of sleep, together away from the world. They drifted together.

Afternoon sun fell through the window.

_We create and destroy. We exist, we are._


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: So this one took a little longer to write (mainly due to laziness), but also because I'm thinking about plot and trying to bring things together. So bear with me if the next ones aren't out on a weekly basis. I just hope you're all still fans of the story. Enjoy!

_The words in my head came in on the wind, spoken from another's tongue._

Kiba felt the light breeze on his neck, whispers, shadow's shadows, creeping, slithering. It was enough to pull him from sleep. He looked around in the blackness, felt the warmth of Kankuro's arms around him, his body beside him. He was content to stay there, stay warm and safe. But the whispers, the shadows gave a pull, powerful and silent. It was enough to pull him out of Kankuro's embrace, enough to set his head spinning into darkness. It was too late for his fear to kick in, for him to realize the familiarity of the feeling. The presence was growing. The voice would speak.

No time to lash out, his screams were already silenced as they came to his lips. Nothing left. He was far away, numbed by the blackness, stifled, buried inside himself. The familiar lust bubbled up inside of him, the urge for blood. And now, in the dead of night, nothing could hold him back.

He could smell Kankuro's pulse; taste his warmth, the coursing of blood through his veins. Kiba was silent as he crouched over his face, his claws itching to rip, to tear; his tongue anticipating the hot wetness spilling out. "Hunt." It spoke. "Kill. Lust. Blood."

The words echoed in him, powerful, alive. Kankuro hardly stirred as Kiba drew his nail across Kankuro's pale chest, drawing a thin line of scarlet. He moaned as he slid his tongue across the cut. Kankuro's face, lit by the moonlight should have spoke to Kiba, should have stopped him; should've held him back. But, the part that would've responded had been smothered, shoved away.

Kiba raised his claws, frenzy building, he would tear, rip flesh, loose blood. "Stop," Was the command. Kiba's raised hand froze in mid-air, his cells constricted, muscles bound tight. He watched the blood bead up along Kankuro's chest; he burned for it. He couldn't process why the same force that had instilled his animalism wouldn't allow him to satisfy it. He had no choice but to stop and listen.

"Not him, not now." The voice was chilling and Kiba felt fear. It would not be wise to disobey. He pulled his hand back; let it fall to his side. He continued to stare hungrily at the cut. "There will be others. There will be more. You can even have him. But not now." The voice purred, a seductive darkness. Nothing in it should have been trusted, and yet he found it impossible to ignore it. "First, you must come to me."

The words multiplied, echoing, bouncing off the walls of his mind. They magnified, intensified, until they were almost tangible. And then, they slowly receded into the blackness, a snake slithering back into the ground, leaving behind blind promises. Kiba obeyed.

_My mind departs; my body follows. The beast emerges._

The moon was full, yellow and high in the night sky as Kiba padded across the desert. The sand was cool and illuminated as he made his way, followed the current that ran through him and pulled him toward the unknown. He ran on all fours, leaving everything he knew behind for an insatiable, manufactured need. The desired were not his own, and yet he could not tell what he wanted anymore, his will stifled and his thoughts censored, nonexistent. He was reaction now, instinct, and he should have recognized how he had felt this before, had been in this place before, this derelict village, hidden among the hills of sand.

What happened there, though was hidden from him, the answers buried with the rest of him, save for his anatomy, his muscle, blood and bone, working on command, driven by lust. "Close now." The voice rang, filling him with anxiety and excitement. The promise of blood was pulsing through him now; he could taste his reward. "Soon. Closer." The voice cajoled, and Kiba answered, drawing closer to the maw of the beast that wished to consume him.

"We have him, brother. Surely…" The first voice had long grown impatient.

"Yes, it should be apparent." The second was straining not to break his concentration. Did his brother not understand how delicate this whole procedure was? Did he not comprehend how useless he was?

"Brother, shall I-"

"Stop!" The syllable was forced through clenched teeth, anger radiating. "Stop speaking. You've done nothing to help accomplish this task. I'll be damned if you ruin it now. Now, when we're so close. Don't think your insolence will go unpunished."

The first brother could feel the anger and power radiating from him, felt the dark push against his own mind, and knew his brother hadn't made empty threats. He couldn't believe how strong his brother actually was, and just how worthless the word brother had become. Empty words. If he proceeded to get in the way, death would be the last thing he feared. Both knew there was far worse a punishment than death.

Suddenly, the other's concentration diminished. As his seriousness melted away, his face remained dark, although he wore a maniacal smile. They both knew now, what this meant. "Brother, we have company."

Kiba entered the opening, the blackness of the cave that was an insignificant crevice in the rock, something easily missed were he not guided by the force in his body, the voice in his head. He slipped in, silently, unnoticed. Hunter. Although the darkness was thick, wrong, and a small part of him urged departure, he pressed forward, the pull strengthening. Only when he was told so, did he realize he wasn't alone.

"Very well." The voice came to him again. He stopped, not by choice. "You've done very well. Now look around you." Kiba's eyes strained in the dark, until they rested on two identical figures, not ten feet in front of him. His senses, even, were being controlled, as he couldn't smell or hear them at all, and only saw them when willed to.

They were equal in height, Kiba could tell, and both wore loose clothing, perhaps robes. They didn't appear to have any hair. "Chi." He heard the first voice in his head, although he couldn't tell if their lips moved at all. He didn't think they did.

"Yoru." The second voice no doubt held more power, more conviction. This was what had brought him here, this power that he feared.

Chi. Yoru. Blood. Night. They were names. Yoru continued.

"The blood you crave will be given." The power in his voice, in Kiba's mind was compelling. Kiba had no choice but to listen and believe. The thrill of killing dripped into his mind again slowly as Yoru talked, as Kiba's frenzy grew.

"I promise you what you want, but you must listen to us. You must kill for blood and you must kill whom I say. Do as I instruct, nothing more."

The words reached Kiba, floated through him. His instincts were raging again, blood and killing, pulsing through his mind. He was their animal; their blind, manipulated, raging animal, and he would kill for them without question.

"Now brother?" Chi spoke, weakly, hesitantly. "Shall we leave him with the others, see what he's worth?"

"Yes, I think we shall." They sank away into the shadows, leaving Kiba, although their hold on his mind hadn't faltered.

_What lurks in death and darkness, hidden, lusting, is what I've become._

Kiba felt other things with him now, presences crawling from the shadows. There were too many to count, and he felt their malice, their sick intent. They slithered over him, hands pressing against his muscles, feeling his shape. Mouths traced over his neck, delicate at first, although never loving, and quickly became harder. Kisses pressed to his tongue, all over him, tasting and being tasted, the darkness caressing him.

His heart sped as they continued to feel him, to touch him. Their roughness was pleasing, and his inhibitions, he found, were gone. He moaned as something sank its teeth into his shoulder. He felt the warm rivulets of blood trickle down his spine and his muscles tensed, anxious, his instincts emerged, the thrill of the hunt, of the kill coming forward.

"They bleed too." Both brothers were inside his head, enticing him. He felt hot breath at his ear.

"We all bleed."

Kiba found the mouth the breath belonged to and kissed back, the body solid. There were others, he knew, but he would start with this. He ran his fingers over the chest as he bit down into their neck, spilling warmth and red.

There were screams as his claws slashed and his fangs gleamed in the dark: shrieks of agony, moans of pleasure and sighs of death. But Kiba savored most the soft dripping of blood, which spilled to the ground, covered him, running into rivers that led deep into the darkness.

"He will do nicely." Chi whispered. "He takes very well to suggestion."

"This," Yoru responded, "Lives in all of us, do not forget."

"Yes, I suppose he will do."

_And now, what is left is red; deep, secret, black and I am not my own._


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Finally! I know it's been a damn long time since I posted a new chapter, but I've been super busy. And not in the country. So yeah. I proudly present to you now, chapter twelve. I pray it was worth the wait. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy(:

_Hands press into me, foreign, cold; claws grasp at my sanity._

The inside of Kankuro's head was fire. It burned through neurons and synapses, ravenous; consumed his dreams. He tried to calm the heat, but it pulsed through him, burning him out. His world was dimming; smoke, thick and black, was choking his senses. Vivid tongues of vermilion and crimson were faltering; smoke filtered them into dust and rose.

Kankuro felt the air squeezed from his lungs, hands of smoke, their clutches heavy. His head was light as he drowned in the burning air, the fingers binding his chest and throat.

Light spilled through pinholes in his consciousness, in the thick smoke and flames that coated his mind. He found the smoke thinning and the flames dying as he reached toward the hazy light. As his eyelids flittered, he still found fire in his lungs, burning for air, his chest constricted.

His eyes shot open in his panic to reveal a trembling Akamaru, thick paws pressing into his chest, urgent barks sounding from his throat. Kankuro managed to maneuver himself out from underneath his massive weight, and sputtered on the air that readily flowed into his heaving chest.

He patted Akamaru on the head as he tried to clam them both. His stomach was ice after the fire, trying not to believe what was so obviously the truth- He was alone in his bed, Kiba's imprint grown cold. Akamaru stood bedside, frantic. There was no sign of struggle, but the air was filled with menace. Kankuro looked into the dog's deep eyes and knew something was horribly wrong.

No matter what his instincts insisted, Kankuro's options were limited. He had no clue as to where Kiba may have gone, and he couldn't risk trying to find him alone or wandering blindly into a trap. There was a good chance that whoever had Kiba wanted Kankuro as well, and would use the dog ninja as bait. He could also choose to risk that Akamaru knew where Kiba was, but in the end that still didn't leave him better off if it was a trap.

His third option would be to let his squad know right away. Chances were, Temari and Hinata would be willing to come together right away to save Kiba, but Kankuro judged they didn't have the time for that. He feared deeply for Kiba, and had the feeling that he wouldn't stay alive for long. He also didn't want to be responsible for leading the others into what was potentially a trap.

Akamaru's constant pawing at Kankuro, followed by his insistent barks, didn't leave Kankuro much more time to think. A decision needed to be made. He got out of bed, leaving the comfort of the sheets behind, and got dressed. He grabbed Crow from the corner of his room and shouldered the puppet. He would need him, he had a feeling. He scribbled a brief note and pinned it to his door, letting anyone who came looking for him know that he was temporarily unavailable. He and Akamaru left, speeding off into the desert, heated by the morning sun.

_I feel your teeth at my neck; beg you to bite away the doubt, pull me to you._

Akamaru tentatively sniffed through the sand, the desert winds picking up Kiba's scent and throwing it across the barren landscape. Kankuro also worked to decipher Kiba's location, as he could hardly sense him, or anyone else for that matter. The small puppet he had scurrying through the sand was coming up empty, no trace of another's chakra. And the wind was picking up.

"Looks like a sandstorm." Kankuro said. The knot in his stomach grew tighter. A sandstorm would destroy all chances they had of finding Kiba. Plus, they were so far out in the desert already; they wouldn't have time to reach shelter before it started.

He withdrew his puppet, as it was useless if there was no chakra to be found, and tucked it back into his pocket. He noticed for the first time the scratch that lay on his chest. It hardly hurt, but it felt strange. He could feel it was recent, and although he couldn't be certain, he felt like a powerful force had touched him. It felt evil.

He remembered what it felt like to lose Kiba to that evil, when they fought in the desert against some unknown enemy. When he looked into Kiba's eyes and found nothing there but rage and bloodlust. He had been lucky enough to pull Kiba from that power once. He doubted if he would be so lucky again.

Kankuro felt that presence, that malice across his chest, as if it floated delicately around the scratch, butterfly kisses gently smoothed across his chest. He touched it briefly and the sensation disappeared. Determination bubbled up in its place. He would not let Kiba down.

And that's when it hit him. How could he have been so blind? One of the most basic things known about chakra was that it lingers- this was how tracking was done. Each individual's chakra was unique, forming almost a fingerprint wherever an individual went. And even though Kiba's chakra was indistinguishable due to the brewing storm, Kankuro realized that it didn't matter. He had been searching for the wrong chakra.

The scratch is what brought the memory back to him. Kankuro had used an immense amount of chakra when he had been stabbed. It was used to knit together muscle, to repair skin and cells, and was intertwined with Kiba's body. In short, Kiba still carried a small piece of Kankuro with him, a piece that would react with Kankuro's chakra, without him having to struggle to track it down. Of course, this was all in theory, but it was the only option left, and the sand was starting to rage.

Kankuro started forming hand seals, and then held his arms out in front of him, his fingers spread. Akamaru sat and eyed him curiously. He closed his eyes and concentrated as threads of chakra slid from his fingertips. They were thin and ethereal, gently pulsing on the waves of wind, tasting the air, searching.

And suddenly, they began to group together, pulled in one direction, magnetized to their counterpart, their brother that existed in another being. Kankuro opened his eyes to find the threads twisted together, pointing south, unwavering. It would have to do. The wisps of energy slowly slid back into Kankuro, a spider retracting its web.

"Let's go, boy." He said, patting Akamaru on the head. "And let's hope we're not too late." They took off running, the wind growing more tempestuous, snarling at their backs.

_My eyes tear through the darkness, through your flesh. Your mind is not your own._

They had been running due south for the better part of an hour, and now Kankuro stopped, seemingly defeated. They had hit mountains now, a dark, craggy ridge of boulder and stone lining the southern edge of the desert. He also worried about the storm, which proceeded to whip around them. It was still light, delaying its crescendo, but it would be fully upon them at any moment, and they were exposed.

And yet, perhaps what worried Kankuro the most was the fact that his senses told him he was right where he should be. His chakra was almost resonating in tune with what was so close by, and yet still hidden. He felt it as an excitement, a tension in him; something that drew him to where he was, and willed him not to leave.

But it was seemingly futile, as there was nowhere else to go. Kankuro stared at the solid wall of rock in front of him and felt his hope drain. Was this the best he could do for Kiba? To come so close and end up being so far away? How had he let him slip away so quickly, so quietly? He couldn't even put up a fight. His rage, now sparked, burned inside him as his fist flew against the rock. The whole valley seemed to tremble, hit with the reverberations; the face of the rock cracked as the noise dissipated.

He stood, for a moment satisfied, before he realized not that the sandstorm was ready to hit, full force. The wind ripped through the desert, throwing sand violently at the mountains, at Kankuro. He shielded his face with his arms as he began to frantically search for shelter. He felt feebly along the rock, but found nothing, all the while pelted with rubble, the wind burning his face.

Through the discord, he heard Akamaru's whine. Akamaru! He would never forgive himself if he didn't go back for the dog. He could barely open his eyes though, and if he could, he would see nothing but harsh sand and light.

"Akamaru!" he yelled, instantly regretting opening his mouth. It was dusted with grit, the desert resting now on his tongue, dry and hot. The dog answered with a loud bark and more whining. They continued to call out to each other, as their voices grew closer together. Finally, Kankuro's blind fingers found fur, and he proceeded to crouch down.

He found, though, that on his hands and knees, there was darkness and a slight calm in front of him. He chanced opening his eyes. Akamaru had found a small opening in the rock. Kankuro's heart nearly skipped a beat as they both clambered inside, into the cool dark.

Kankuro panted, grateful for the respite from the wind that raged outside. "Good Boy." He said, patting Akamaru's head. He responded by licking Kankuro's cheek. Akamaru's presence calmed him only slightly. The ice in his stomach grew as he felt the chakra emanating from the walls, the cave dripping with dark power. Kiba was the only person worth risking this much for. Kankuro gathered himself, and started to crawl along the narrow trail into the blackness of the mountain. Akamaru followed dutifully.

As if it weren't cold enough already, the temperature began to steadily drop as they continued crawling, deep into the rock. Kankuro felt the walls slowly inching inward, the space becoming ever more claustrophobic. The blackness appeared thick and tangible, oily ink that hung thick in the air. And the cold still clutched to him, pulling him forward in response to the rapid beating of his heart.

Then he heard the whispers. They were harsh, powerful, and seemed to reflect off of every surface, every molecule of the blackness, and multiply. "Kill." They said, "Lust", "Blood", "Heat". It was as if someone had pressed their lips to Kankuro's ear and uttered with exponential voices, all harsh bursts of dark air and syllables.

He pressed onward, willing his mind not to succumb to the pressure, hoping it wouldn't collapse under the strain. He bit his lip in focus and tasted blood.

As soon as he entered what seemed to be the main cavern though, everything stopped. The voices were silenced; the walls seemed to push back out. Even the heaviness of the darkness seemed to have lifted. And although the temperature ceased to drop, the room was so cold he could see white clouds of exhalation.

As he looked around, now able to stand, he realized the room was indeed lighter than the tunnel had been, and as his eyes adjusted, he found he wasn't alone.

At first, Kankuro was overjoyed to see Kiba, but as he slowly approached, he realized how much was wrong. His hair was matted, and he was covered in dirt. His clothes were tattered; his nails were ragged and caked with dried blood. His eyes were dead, vacant, and his stare was distant. Kiba was somewhere else.

Compassion flooded through Kankuro as he started towards Kiba. "K-Kiba…" he said, tentatively. "Who did this?" Kiba didn't respond, just stood lifeless, inanimate.

"Kiba!" he raised his voice, growing frantic. Panic and anger mounted inside of him.

"We did." The voices rang inside Kankuro's head. The sensation was terrible and filled him with fear. Slowly, out of the darkness came two figures, one on either side of Kiba. Both reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder.

"Don't touch him!" Kankuro shouted. Akamaru loosed a low snarl, and crouched low, ready to attack.

Kankuro felt them smile, and it sent shivers down his spine. "It's nothing he didn't want. Nothing he wasn't before we showed up. We simply unleashed what lies dormant in all creatures."

"In fact," it was a different voice now, darker, more powerful, "I think you're something he's wanted most of all."

He saw them both turn to whisper to Kiba. Kankuro felt sick, seeing him like this and having no power to stop it.

"I think it's time to let him have what he wants." Said the first voice. Kankuro started to tremble, the puppet on his back felt heavy.

"I agree."

Both figures were gone instantly. Kankuro slightly felt that the whole thing was imagined, but seeing Kiba, torn and vacant, walking towards him confirmed the reality of everything. His head was spinning. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

"Kiba…" Kankuro reached out to him when suddenly Kiba launched himself at Kankuro, claws reaching, teeth gnashing. He felt himself being knocked out of the way by Akamaru, who instead took the blow. He heard the thud of impact, followed by a yelp of pain and another solid thud as Akamaru hit the wall and slid to the floor.

Kiba, crouched low, turned to face Kankuro again, ready to attack. Kankuro's head cleared then. He was ready and willing to do what was necessary. He drew a kunai and anticipated Kiba's next move.

He was no longer Kiba. He was an animal, fed by instinct and no doubt the power of the two figures he had seen. Kankuro remembered the crawl into the cavern, the darkness, the whispers, and could only imagine what had taken place in Kiba's mind.

Kankuro tightened his grip on the knife as Kiba sprang. Kiba's claws reached for Kankuro's face as he jumped out of the way and ducked low. As Kiba slashed at Kankuro, he brought his knife in a short arc in front of him, fending off the attack.

Now Kankuro charged, and slashed his kunai at Kiba, who flipped back, narrowly missing the knife's blade.

It was a struggle back and fourth, of dodging and attacking, but neither succeeding. As soon as one gained the advantage, the other claimed it for his own.

But soon, Kiba found himself pressed against the rough wall of the cavern with Kankuro's steel at his neck. Kankuro paused though, unsure of what to do next. Somewhere, behind the animal, this was Kiba. Somewhere, deep inside this monster, was his love, lost behind this black power was his friend. He looked into Kiba's eyes and found fear, hesitation. He lowered his knife and lifted his hand to Kiba's cheek. "Kiba kun…"

But that hesitation was all Kiba needed. He pulled Kankuro close and held him tight as he bit down on Kankuro's shoulder. Kankuro screamed in pain as he felt the knife being ripped from his hand; felt the hot blood leak down his arm. He could barely breathe, Kiba held him so tightly. Just as he tried to struggle, he felt the tip of hi own knife pressed cold into the flesh of his back. Crow had long since fallen off and lay useless, still wrapped, and far off on the cavern floor.

The knife hovered, Kiba waiting to plunge it in. He wanted to savor first the river spilling from Kankuro's shoulder. "Kiba kun…" Kankuro whispered hoarsely in the cod silence.

Then, flesh was pierced and screams filled the cave as blood, sweet and red dripped to the floor.

_I taste the tang of your love, running through my fingers, blood so easily spilled. _


	13. Chapter 13

Author's note: I owe you all an apology. It's been way too long since I posted the last chapter, and I left you with such a cliffhanger no less… You can hate me for that but please, please keep reading. It's worth your time, I promise. It's been hard for me to find the time and energy to just sit down and write this, but once I did, I reaffirmed my love for it. I also was expecting this to be the last chapter, but I guess it didn't turn out that way after all. So, please enjoy, review and keep reading!

_Pain pulses, colorful through my body, reds and purples of clarity._

Kiba tore his eyes from the boy he was sure he had cornered, and let out another scream of rage.

Akamaru's thick maw encased Kiba's hand; his fangs breaking the skin, clamped tight enough to crack the bone. His hand contorted and bloody, Kiba dropped the knife. The clatter of it hitting the ground rang out through the silence

His eyes were vacant as he stopped shouting; the fight left him as he became quiet, confused. In the stillness of the cave, Akamaru let loose a cry of pain, a high- pitched whimper. It was taking all his strength to keep his jaw clamped around Kiba's hand.

Then, all at once, Kiba blinked in the darkness, and truly saw for the first time what had been the truth all along. The blackness had leaked out of his mind; the red filter was gone. What was left was his own presence, and light.

He saw Kankuro, unwavering, inches from his face. He saw Akamaru, rough from the fight, clenching on to Kiba's fist. Puncture wounds, pin points, mutilating his hand to stop his mutilating Kankuro.

He felt the blood drip to the floor, felt himself exhale, shakily, raspy, felt the heat of Kankuro's body. But it all felt good. Because he could feel.

He couldn't pull his memories together; they were lost in the blackness, feathers stuck in deep, black tar. He saw blood, and knew that he'd rather not remember what he had done. He was exhausted and scared; being conscious of all these things overwhelmed him.

"Kankuro…" his voice cracked, dry, unused to forming syllables and words. "Akamaru…"

They both stood and stared, not knowing what to believe.

"Thank you…" he said as his voice broke. It was barely a whisper. Tears leaked from his eyes as he hung his head, his neck limp.

Akamaru tentatively released his hand. Still injured, he fell to lie on his side panting, and passed out. Kiba fell into Kankuro, his tear stained face hidden in the angle of Kankuro's neck.

"I'm sorry." He sobbed Kankuro folded his arms around him, comforted him.

"Shh. It's all right…"

The shadows gathered around them, black and thick, as whispers poured from the air.

"They seem to think they've won, brother."

"Indeed. But we wouldn't want to give them the wrong impression, now would we?"

"Of course not."

_Ripping, tearing, power is forced through my narrow conscious, my soft thoughts destroyed._

"No!" Kiba screamed, as Kankuro held him fiercely, trying to restrain what was trying to break free. Kiba's mind pulsed with heat. It was scalding, fierce, and more intense than the shadows he remembered. This was something different entirely. This was domination.

He tried to pull himself inward, away. The shadows and darkness would smother who he was, push it down, and shut it up. But this was burning it away completely. He shook as he tried to remain conscious. He wondered how Kankuro hadn't burst into flames at his touch. He wondered how he himself hadn't smoldered away by now. He should be covered in bright tongues of flame, the white heat he felt inside. All he could do was scream.

Kankuro held Kiba as long as he could before he was no longer there. His screams grew into howls, rage and pain pouring from his mouth, over his teeth. He grasped at Kankuro with his claws, trying to tear and bite.

Kankuro couldn't do anything but try to hold Kiba back, hold the monster close. And he found he could also cry. This was it. He felt it in his core as he trembled, as he felt the heat from the struggle in his arms. Kiba would die, burn out; this frenzy would eat away at his psyche. The powers of the brothers had been underestimated.

And that was key to it all, Kankuro realized. No matter what happened to Kiba, no matter how Kankuro could try to stop him, there was always a larger power at work. The brothers held all the cards. If Kankuro managed to stop what was happening, there was no stopping it from happening again. Same thing if Kiba died. The brothers would still be. They were the ones that needed to be destroyed. And although it was almost unbearable, Kankuro needed to let go. He couldn't do anything now but try to kill them. Even if it meant letting them take Kiba down.

"Kiba-kun…" He spoke softly to the boy, who raged and foamed in his arms, desperately trying to kill him. He struggled to speak, the strain of restraining Kiba becoming unbearable. "I love you." He whispered.

Deep inside, what was fragmented, smoldering, the small, conscious part that was left of Kiba was saying, "I love you too. And I'm sorry." And then, all was lost.

Kiba would no longer be held. With a sickening snap, Kankuro's arms were thrown back and Kiba's claws went right for him.

But as he attacked, there were more cracks and pops, yet no screams. Kiba's claws didn't feel the wet heat of blood, didn't sink into the flesh like they should've. Kiba's eyes stopped, dilated pupil's resting, pausing to glimpse the truth. But it didn't make sense.

Kankuro's face caved in, his body chipped away, peeling off down to the bone. No flesh at all, just flakes of paint and wood, falling to the floor. And underneath it all, lay a structure of wood, smooth and strong, and a face with strange eyes, glassy and vacant.

The package Kankuro dropped on the ground long ago now twitched. His forgotten puppet, wrapped tight in bandages was now working itself out. And suddenly, as the silence of the cave remained and Kiba stayed deathly still, the bandages flew open, swirling and spiraling through the air to reveal Kankuro: proud and exhausted, and ready for the end.

And now, as it all began to click together in Kiba's mind, the glassy eyes stared back at him and the puppet before him struck like a snake. With a rattle and a clack, it's arms wrapped around him tight, constricting now with metal and wood, indomitable.

Kiba raged and screamed as the arms coiled around and around. He tried to flail, but his arms were clamped to his sides. And Kankuro, pulling the strings from behind wrapped the puppet tighter and tighter until Kiba ceased to move.

_You bind me and you break me, but I pray that you still love me._

Kiba's breath ebbed in and out of his body, slowly. Waves lapping shallow at the sand. But shallow breaths were still breaths, and Kankuro was glad that Kiba had passed out before he had to constrict him completely. But that didn't mean death could be evaded for long. It was time for him to end this.

He kept Kiba tightly bound in Crow's arms as he scanned the cave for the brothers. He wondered if they were even physical beings, the way they slipped in and out of shadows, wandering freely into people's minds. Such a power, he understood now, was much more dangerous than he could have ever imagined.

He kept himself on guard, alert, as his mind pushed towards the blackness, daring them to take hold of it, his body, his spirit. But instead, they came, tangible, out of the blackness. And he could tell this time that now they were at their most powerful. Now they were at their angriest. Now, they would not be satisfied with anything less than death.

"We must applaud you for pushing us this far." The voice again, rang in his head. "Although we must warn you, we will not be pushed further. And you will not survive."

"Enough show, brother. This has been drawn out far too long. Let's be done with it." The second voice rang out with deep anger and power.

Kankuro thought this could very well be the last thing he saw before he was killed. He felt the power emanating from that voice and reverberating around his skull. It pushed and pulled at his consciousness, at his senses. The two figures seemed to blur together ad pull apart.

Kankuro watched the cave fall inward, and stretch back out. Things were beginning to form and reform all around him, transcending and manifesting, becoming solid all over again. He had never felt anything like it. He kept his focus in the threads of chakra that ran from his fingers and held Kiba tight. But he knew he couldn't hold for long.

And then, cutting through the pulsing haze was a flash, neon bright and hot as wildfire. He felt it before the sword actually sliced through his shoulder. It was only as he fell to his knees that he realized what they had accomplished. The one with the real power had conjured up the state he was in, and held him in it, while the other attacked. Kiba could see him now, the illusion gone, sword in hand, blood dripping.

Kankuro coughed and sputtered, his vision already blurring slightly. The cut was deep. But as he felt the threads of chakra flutter, threaten to extinguish, he pulled what was left of his strength out, only in time for the world to begin to fluctuate, to push and pull again.

He felt cold, lucid, as he anticipated the attack. Their system was fool proof- one kept the victim incapacitated while the other safely and viciously attacked. Kankuro had been snared effortlessly.

And now he saw the flash again, but slowly. Time and space dripped like honey, thick and the flash held bright, blinding. He saw the air split and felt the raw heat. He anticipated the bite of steel and the density of blood. Every inch of him expected the pain of the blow. He was anticipating death.

And in this split moment, in which realization came, he was able to let go of his fear. He found meeting the blade was appropriate now, after giving everything he had. He tried to save the one person on this earth that mattered to him, the only person he loved truly and deeply. And he found he would be at peace, as long as he knew he died for Kiba.

But he never tasted the sword twice.

Rock exploded through the cave; wind ripping throughout. The light of day came crashing through as the hurricane force sliced through the black. Kankuro fell flat on the ground, pressed low by the scream of wind on his back. He felt the air slicing around him, blood and sand and grit, whirling, whipping through the cave.

The ground shook violently as rocks tumbled through the air. And when the wind finally died away to a whisper, the rocks finally stopped clattering heavily to the ground, a ringing silence left Kankuro to shut his eyes as he drifted through the daylight and bled.

_Shadows. Nothing left but the ghost of love's shadows._


	14. Chapter 14

Author's note: This is it. The last chapter. And I realize it's been a completely unfair amount of time. But life happens. I think I needed the break. And now, I know for certain that this is the end. More importantly, this is the end my story was meant to have. So I am sincerely sorry for taking so long, and I understand if you don't agree with its necessity. But here it is, please enjoy. And really, thank you for reading it all. This has been quite a journey. And I'm very excited to write more stories in the very near future. Until then, Tank you. Love and Peace, Pandasplease :)

_The silence is white hot, deafening._

_Is there anything left, if I open my eyes?_

Kankuro's eyelids felt heavy as he tried to open them. His whole body felt heavy; weighed down with pain and exhaustion. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He felt the ache each dull thud brought with it. His shoulder was stiff and sharp with pain. He was sore. He was still.

He tried to open his eyes, which proved to be a tremendous struggle, but eventually he made progress. Light slowly seeped into his head from behind the black curtain of his eyelids. Fuzzy and dull at first, he continued to blink until they remained open, and tried to concentrate as the shapes began to take focus. If opening his eyes was this hard, he prayed he was somewhere safe- getting up would be out of the question.

What had happened? The last thing he remembered was loud darkness, stone and wind crashing together. Rumbling, cracking and pain, then blackness. And now, silence. The details of what came before were lost to him.

He was afraid to see what was on the other side of his eyelids. How much time had passed? Seconds? Hours? Weeks? Where was he now? The questions formed before he had time to ponder them. Suddenly a though came to him which froze his nerves. _Kiba_. Where was Kiba?

And then it all came rushing back- the cave, the darkness, the brothers. And, the inexplicable ending to it all. His eyes snapped open, his vision cleared, the world around him coming rapidly into focus.

He nearly closed them again as he squinted, surprised at the harsh, white light surrounding him. The contrast was sharp. But his vision faltered for little longer as he took in his surroundings, breathing in, and noticing for the first time, the antiseptic air. It was a small, bright hospital room, a large window the main attraction, mounted on the wall to his right. It let the high, bright sun of mid day fall freely into the room.

_How long _has _it been? _He asked himself again, feeling slight relief at being here instead of dying in the middle of the desert. But there were still many questions that needed answers. And Kankuro was in no position to go looking for them.

Thankfully, his heart rate monitor was sounding regularly, due to his new consciousness, and it wasn't long before a troupe of official looking people entered his small room. Two clean, crisp nurses preceded a tall man with sharp, yet welcoming features. As he cleared the door, Kankuro noticed another figure enter the room. She was shapely, tall and confident, with deep concern etched on her face. As their eyes met across the room, it quickly faded to relief.

"Temari." Kankuro said with a smile. He made to reach out to her, forgetting the gash in his shoulder which was stiffly bandaged, and recoiled in pain, gasping.

"Idiot." She said, smiling down at him. She drew close to him and spoke softly. "I was worried about you."

Kankuro opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but questions spilled out; the tall man silenced him.

"Shh. There'll be plenty of time for that later," he said, looking kindly to the both of them, "for now, we're going to make sure you'll be able to get out of here as soon as possible." That sounded good to Kankuro.

The man began asking him general questions, inquiring about his pain (which was immense), his memory (which was intact), and about his feelings (which were irrelevant. He wanted answers). The two nurses gently poked and prodded, testing joint movement, drawing blood, and changing bandages. A few notes were jotted down on the clipboard at the foot of his bed.

"You're doing marvelously." He said with a smile. Kankuro felt far from it. "In another day or two you'll be all set to check out. We were worried about you," he paused here, tentatively, placing a hand on the bed. His voice softened. "Considering what happened to the other one, you're very lucky indeed."

Kankuro's stomach dropped. His blood ran cold. "Other one?" His voice sounded disconnected. Shocked.

"That's enough!" Temari shouted at the man, making it clear they were no longer welcome in the room. She clenched her fist as they shuffled out quietly, the man murmuring apologetically. Kankuro didn't hear. His ears were ringing.

"Temari?" he said, his voice cracking. "What did he mean?"

_I'm blinded by the past; terrified of the future._

_I'm clinging steadfastly to hope._

Temari closed her eyes and sighed, dropping her head into her hands. The panic wound up in Kankuro. He couldn't take it. He didn't know what she was about to say, but it would be too much, he was sure. He bit his lip; willing himself to calm down, focus. She looked him straight in the eyes.

"I'm going to give you the good news first. You are not going to interrupt." She paused there, waiting for him to do exactly so. But Kankuro couldn't bring himself to. He merely nodded and she continued. "We won." There was pride in her voice, but understanding momentarily evaded Kankuro. "The brother. They're dead Kankuro. The mission was a success."

Anger flared up in Kankuro. That damned mission. Of course that was the good news- that Temari didn't fail. He was about to speak in disgust when realization actually hit him. They had won. It was over. They were dead and Kiba was free. Kankuro didn't have to worry anymore. The relief granted was immense as it washed over him. He even smiled a little, surprising Temari. It was over. He was free. Kiba was free. Kiba.

His face darkened again, and Temari noticed. She continued Speaking. "We tracked you, Hinata and I. Her Byakugan has gotten so powerful..." she gazed at the window for a moment, trailing off, but she caught herself and continued. "We didn't know exactly what to do once we found you. She was watching the fight inside the cave. She said it was intense, and I could feel the chakra emanating from inside…" She shivered as she stared out the widow again. "Incredible."

She paused again, and Kankuro could tell she was choosing her words carefully now. "Hinata told me what was going on and we were trying to figure out when to strike, but you were caught… somehow." She was beginning to stumble on her words, panic growing in her voice. "You were going to die. Hinata watched him, about to deliver the final strike. I… lost it." Tears now built up behind her eyes as she drew strong breaths in. She wiped them away before they had a chance to fall.

The tension mounted in Kankuro again, his breaths becoming shallow. _Here it comes._ He thought. She would tell him how sorry she was, that she didn't mean to hurt anyone, that Kiba was just an accident, so unlucky. He began to tremble.

"The wind I summoned obliterated the cave. The brothers were killed instantly, their bodies crushed by the falling rocks. And you… I'm so sorry. I thought I had killed both of you too." She paused to catch her breath again. Something in her voice calmed Kankuro slightly. But he remained poised on her every word.

"But you're all right." She looked at him with a smile. "Kiba though…" She trailed off again. "He's not doing so well." She looked to the ground, to the window, and then set her eyes back on Kankuro's. "But he's alive, Kankuro. He's alive."

_Hold my hand. Don't let me go._

A bomb detonated in Kankuro's chest. His heart pounded wildly, pumping icy blood through his veins. But it didn't seem to cool him enough to stop the sweat that shined his face. He shook so bad that he had to grab the bed frame to steady himself. _"He's alive, Kankuro. He's alive."_

It should be relief. It should be calm. But he failed to see the good in it. His Kiba. His beautiful, tragic Kiba…

"I need to…" He was sputtering on his words. "To see him."

"Kankuro." Temari said, her emotions finally back in check, replaced by the authority she usually unsparingly utilized. "Don't be stupid. You just can't right now…" She looked him over, still hooked up to so many machines, bandaged and bruised. "You cant possibly.."

"Temari." He said, his fierceness overriding hers. He looked her in the eyes, opened himself up. He let her see the tears that were growing there, let her see every pain, every question, every anxiety that he held. He let her read him like a book. But most importantly, he let her know that there was no stopping him.

"Kankuro." She whispered. "Stop." He didn't answer. He continued to stare into her eyes. She got up and left, with a regretful look back as she reached the door. Then she kept walking.

He yanked the cords from his skin, the adhesive pads stinging as they snapped off, leaving blushing imprints where they had been adhered a second ago. Kankuro winced, but the pain was far away. He was working on will power. He had no time for pain.

But it wouldn't be that easy, he realized, as he tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He ended up falling back against his pillow. He yelled in frustration, but didn't lay there long. He used his good arm to pull himself back up into a sitting position. He started with his left leg, drawing it up towards his body slowly, clenching his teeth. He saw now, for the first time, how bruised he was, his legs covered in scratches and dark purple spots. He grimaced, but pulled his right one up as well.

He turned himself slowly with his hand on the bed frame; careful not to hurt his shoulder or fall again, and slowly lowered his legs until his feet touched the cold, smooth floor.

His legs were shaking, his steps crooked, but he kept on his feet. _Kiba. _ He thought as he crossed the room. _Damn it, Kiba_. He wandered into the hallway. Kiba was all he thought. He fought the pain, keeping the boy in his mind as he wandered through the quiet hospital, determined.

Of course he found him eventually. He didn't question what force drew them together, only knew that it was strong. He saw the room, the doorway interrupted by a large sweeping tail that rested in the hallway. Akamaru. It had to be. He shambled towards the door, hoping he was recognizable, hoping the room was empty.

The dog immediately noticed his presence, his ears perking up and his tail began to wag. It was clear though, that he was exhausted. He didn't sit up as Kankuro entered the room, just continued to lie there, taking up an enormous amount of space. He reached down slightly, as much as his body would allow, and patted him gently on the head. Then he headed towards the boy who lay, fragile and bruised, in the bed, covered in thin white sheets in the middle of the room.

His breath caught in his throat as he watched Kiba's shallow breathing, his chest rose sadly up and down. Kankuro reached out to touch his forehead, gently. He didn't need to look at Kiba's clipboard, didn't need to read the neatly scrawled notes, "Comatose" to know that Kiba wasn't really here.

He was dreaming, Kankuro hoped. Maybe not lost in the darkness, as he had been for so long. He was free. Kankuro painfully dropped to his knees and continued to stroke Kiba's forehead. He whispered softly as thick tears fell from his eyes.

"I'm here, Kiba-kun. You can fight this. You can't give up on me now." He wanted to believe, so badly that his words weren't falling on deaf ears. He grabbed Kiba's hand, kissed it, continued to cry. "Kiba, I'm here. I love you."

He thought about how far they'd come, how they had fallen so fast into this, about how he hoped they would continue to fall, to catch each other. He thought about dog kisses, lazy afternoons, and the bright yellow sunlight floating through windows. He thought about Kiba. And he hoped Kiba was thinking about him too.

And then, Kankuro felt the lightest twitch, the smallest movement, and soft as a feather touching the glassy surface of a lake. He looked up. Maybe he was imagining it, all of it. But he swore he saw the slightest hint of a smile on Kiba's lips.

_Walk with me, side by side,_

_Into the unknown._


End file.
